Kurt Hummel and the Boy Who Lived
by gleefulmusings
Summary: Kurt Hummel, the unknown twin of Harry Potter, is about to matriculate at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, determined to reunite with his brother. Extremely intelligent, highly skilled, and well prepared, Kurt, accompanied by two friends just as cunning and powerful, is no one's pawn, and he will stop at nothing to protect his family.
1. The Other Boy Who Lived

**Author's Note**: This is a story I've been conceiving for a very long time and am finally ready to attempt to write. Kurt Hummel is going to Hogwarts to be reunited with his missing twin, Harry Potter. Kurt, his father, his mentor, and his friends have prepared for this moment for years, and no one - not Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore - will stand in his way. More notes at the end of the chapter.

* * *

As the day of the death of the seventh month dawned, Kurt Hummel rolled over on his side, the light from the enormous bay window in his bedroom bathed his face. He blinked once, somewhat harshly, and awakened abruptly. He yawned and sat up in his large sleigh bed before gently laying back against the overstuffed king-sized pillows, sighing gently.

He surveyed his room, pleased with how he had appointed it. The walls were a deep mustard with a teak wainscoting and crown molding painted in the shade of Devon cream. The carpeting was plush and matched the molding exactly. Aside from the bed, there was a large armoire lining the wall opposite the end of his bed, which housed his entertainment system. The abutting wall, running the length of the room, held his rather large mahogany desk, either side of which was flanked by matching bookshelves.

The woods were heavy, antiques dating back centuries, but were durable and functional. The room was large enough that it wasn't dominated by the furniture, all of which had been placed for maximum efficiency and aesthetic flair.

He was going to miss this room, which had become the sanctuary of his often hectic life.

"Happy Birthday, Kurt," he whispered softly to himself.

He would be celebrating with the requisite party in roughly three weeks, but his actual birthday was today, the last day of July.

"Born as the seventh month dies," he murmured, feeling his world crashing in on him.

His restless mind settled on thoughts of his brother, and he wondered what his missing twin was doing at that moment. His brother would have already received his Hogwarts letter by now.

"Happy Birthday, Harry."

He didn't understand how it was possible to miss so horribly someone he had never truly known. He had no real memories of Harry, but only feelings of love and loss. He wondered if Harry had those feelings as well, if he also felt as though a huge part of himself was missing.

Could Harry miss someone he didn't remember?

By all accounts, mostly gleaned from that rag which passed itself off as the newspaper of wizarding Britain, Harry had no idea he even had a brother. Harry was the Boy Who Lived, while Kurt was all but forgotten. He didn't begrudge his brother the fame; he knew well given his father's career how fickle public opinion could be. In fact, he was sure that as soon as Harry reentered wizarding society, he would be immediately longing for obscurity.

And therein lied Kurt's true power: no one knew who he was, save very few, and Britain certainly wouldn't be prepared for what he would unleash upon them.

Rage coursed through his veins, undiluted fury that he had been separated from his brother and given away like he was so much trash. Thankfully, he had been adopted by Burt and Suzanne Hummel, who, as far as Kurt was concerned, had been the perfect parents. Even after Suzanne had died, Burt continued to be nothing less than a devoted father, fiercely protective of his only child.

But what of Harry? No information on his placement had been unearthed, despite numerous and insistent, though subtle, attempts. Had Harry been as lucky as he? Was he loved and cared for as he deserved? The thought that he might not be made Kurt want to howl with frustration. Soon he would know, however, and then appropriate action would be taken.

In roughly one month, he would be reunited with his brother, and woe betide anyone who interfered.

He, with the help of his advisors, had made numerous plans, short and long-term contingencies, depending on his arrival at Hogwarts and what he would discover. He knew it would be exceedingly difficult to get close to Harry and most likely very dangerous to himself, but he would not be deterred. He didn't care that Voldemort was likely still alive, existing somewhere as a parasitic wraith. He didn't care about Britain and their stupid Pureblood war and prejudices.

He was going to get his brother back and do everything in his power to ensure Harry's survival, no matter who he had to destroy in the process. He smirked at the thought.

Kurt nodded to himself and hopped out of bed, storming toward the bathroom. He had to complete his ablutions and get dressed before reviewing today's agenda.

In roughly three hours, he was certain Albus Dumbledore would be arriving to deliver his Hogwarts letter, expecting an easy sell. The man was in for a rude awakening. Kurt would be recalcitrant and unimpressed by the man's legend and the promise of a vaunted Hogwarts education. He would then proceed to make his demands, all of which he was sure Dumbledore would grant in order to secure his attendance.

Harry Potter was well and truly the Boy Who Lived, the child who had defeated Voldemort a decade previous; he had earned the title and respect which came with it.

Kurt Hummel, however, once known as Liam Potter, also fit the prophecy, and he was sure Dumbledore would want to keep him close at heel, along with Neville Longbottom, just in case Harry didn't survive his perceived duty.

He smirked.

Matching wits with the most celebrated wizard of the last century? Not a problem.

He shut the bathroom door and turned on the shower, shrugging out of his pajamas.

"You have no idea what's coming, Albus, but trust me, my performances always deliver."

* * *

**End Notes**: I want to explain some things about what you can expect from this story so that you can decide whether or not you're interest in following it.

First, Kurt will not be super!Kurt. He will, however, be highly skilled!Kurt. He's extremely intelligent, politically astute, and has been educated in magic for a number of years. In other words, he's not a typical first-year. Reasons for how he knows what he knows and _why_ he knows it will unfold as the story progresses.

Second, you can expect me to adhere very loosely to canon, but I will ignore the parts that disinterest me and elaborate and exaggerate those canonical points I feel will push story along. Consider this to be a **massive** AU. If this is not your cup of tea, bygones, but don't say you weren't warned.

Third, I don't write child characters as innocent waifs ignorant to the world around them. That's simply not reality. There are certainly children who are thoughtful, articulate, and quite adult in how they interact with their peers and families, so expect a lot of that with Kurt and his friends, much to the bewilderment of Harry and his. Children have fought wars and built nations. I refuse to treat them as less than that simply because they're young.

Yes, Kurt will have two friends accompanying him to Hogwarts. Thank you to all who voted in my poll. Santana was the clear winner by a very wide margin, which pleases me, as she was going to go regardless. Care to guess on the second? They weren't a very popular choice, but I suspect the people who voted for them suspected where I might be going.

Kurt is gay, and he will be in this story. He will meet his boyfriend early on - and, yes, they will be dating even at such a young age - but it will be entirely innocent, e.g. hand-holding **at the** **most**, at least for the first three years. Again, if this will bother you, abandon ship now.

Dumbledore is not evil in this story. He is manipulative, yes, but not malicious. He truly believes he's doing what's necessary to save his society. That doesn't mean he's right, and neither do his power and age mean he's invincible. He's simply unused to being challenged, and Kurt will challenge him _often_.

So, if this is something you'd like to see more of, please consider dropping a comment. Who's going with Kurt? Will the Golden Trio still become friends? Who will be Kurt's boyfriend? What Houses will they be in? What kinds of pets or wands will they have? What kind of hell will Santana unleash upon everyone, particularly Snape? I welcome your speculations and, if I use any of them, I will attribute accordingly.


	2. Preparations for War

After showering and dressing, Kurt began making his way downstairs, descending the grand stairway, the heels on his loafers clacking out a pleasing rhythm that echoed in the hall. Most of the staff was off for the weekend and he was glad for the quiet surrounding him. Even though he had lived in this house the past two years, it still didn't seem like home. He could appreciate the grandeur of the architecture and decoration, the sense of history all but seeping from every baseboard, but it was also sterile in a very visceral way.

He headed for the dining room, hoping that his father was already there and that his stepmother and stepbrother were not. He had a lot of affection for Carole, who was a very nice person and exceedingly kind to him, but whenever he was in her presence, whenever he saw her looking so lovingly at his father, he was reminded of his mother and he grieved for her all over again.

Finn was another issue entirely. It wasn't that Kurt hated him; in fact, he kind of liked Finn. It was simply that they were very different people who were both utterly inflexible about what they were willing to tolerate. Finn didn't understand why Kurt loved school and didn't enjoy sports. Kurt didn't like that Finn seemed unable to read books without pictures.

Still, at the end of the day, they were brothers of a sort, and they put each other before almost everyone else. If someone outside the family criticized Kurt, Finn's fists went flying. If someone teased or made fun of Finn, that person found themselves at the end of Kurt's wand, which was definitely an unwelcome place to be. In a very real way, they _were_ brothers; they just didn't have much in common, and therefore easily frustrated one another.

"Hi, Dad!" Kurt brightly chirped.

Burt looked over the top of his newspaper and smiled. "Hey, kiddo. Sleep well?"

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Mostly."

Burt frowned and put down his paper, looking concerned. "Did you have that nightmare again?" he asked gently.

Kurt shook his head. "No, for which I'm quite glad." He shrugged and then grinned. "I guess I'm just young and restless."

Burt quirked a brow and chuckled lowly. "Happy Birthday, baby boy."

Kurt flushed with pleasure. "Thanks, Daddy," he said softly.

Burt nodded but gave his son a hard look. "There's no way I can talk you out of this, is there?"

"Absolutely not," Kurt said blithely, helping himself to the fruit platter.

Burt sighed and shook his head. He was nominally in charge of his family, but had learned the hard way that Kurt could be utterly intractable about certain things. He remembered when his son was three and refused to eat eggs, declaring them nothing but potential chicken. Kurt had no interest in eating potential chicken; if he wanted chicken, then he would have chicken, thank you very much.

Even something so innocuous and almost comical screamed how focused and determined Kurt could be when moved by a particular issue. Considering _this_ particular issue was about Kurt's twin brother, Burt knew he had very little room to maneuver. In the end, despite his young age, Kurt would do what he wanted, his father's lack of permission notwithstanding, and as infuriating as that could be, Burt nevertheless respected his son and his commitment to family.

Not for the first time, Burt seethed that Harry hadn't been given to him and Suzanne as Kurt had been. Kurt had suffered greatly those first two years after his bond with Harry had been forcibly severed. Burt didn't think he would ever forgive Albus Dumbledore for doing that to his son, even if it had been, perhaps, unintentional.

Merlin only knew what had befallen Harry. Dumbledore had insisted to the international press that the Boy Who Lived was safe from Death Eater reprisals and a rabid public, tucked away with relatives who would love and care for the boy. Of course, both Kurt and Burt knew the only family, outside of Kurt himself, that still existed were the Dursleys, but, try as they might, they couldn't find the family.

Burt still didn't know how that was possible. Given his considerable influence and rather lengthy list of contacts, tracking down one non-magical family shouldn't have been so difficult. Whatever magic Dumbledore had used was surely incredibly powerful. It also rankled that Dumbledore had used an intermediary to place them with Kurt, unwilling to hand over the boy himself. That he hadn't considered on the Hummels finding out everything possible on their child was simply poor planning.

Of course, Burt and Suzanne were never to have known that they had been given Liam Potter. All they had been told was that their new son was a political refugee who required immediate and loving care. That hadn't been a concern, of course, but obviously Dumbledore had never planned on the Hummels performing a Blood Adoption ceremony. That the old man hadn't considered that probability suggested to the Hummels that man clearly wasn't operating on all cylinders.

Before the ritual could take place, the Hummels were required to cast the _Familia Originem_ charm, the results of which had been shocking and very illuminating. As the quill hovered over the parchment and then began to fill in the _stemma_, Burt and Suzanne realized, for the first time, that their new son had been born Liam Charlus Potter, the first issue of Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter, née Evans.

In a moment, everything had changed.

Kurt was not only the brother of the Boy Who Lived, but the Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, which presented a number of problems. Even after weeks of consultation with numerous lawyers, government officials, and the Goblins, no clear answers could be determined. Were the adoption to commence, there was no guarantee that Kurt could inherit the headship and title upon his majority; the decision would be made solely by the _familia magica_, or family magic, when he went to claim the Potter ring.

Burt, though descended from magical German nobility, didn't hold much stock in such nonsense, but Suzanne had been anguished over the entire affair. As a French national and pureblood aristocrat herself, she had far better understood the intricacies of European wizarding politics, which were basically ignored and derided in the United States.

Blood adoptions were uncommon, but not unheard of, and usually reserved only for those pureblood families which clearly had no designated heir; in this case, however, Kurt was undoubtedly the Potter heir. If they adopted him by blood and magic, he could lose the legacy into which he had been born, and she initially had been wary of subjecting him to that possibility.

Burt had argued that, in terms of the prejudiced pureblood agenda, their adoption of Kurt would only strengthen his stature. As purebloods themselves, Kurt would be considered a pureblood, rather than a half-blood, and thus would be difficult to attack politically. Europe, and Britain in particular, would be defying their own convention were they to do so, setting a precedent which could best be described as disadvantageous and even downright dangerous.

Further, he hadn't cared if Kurt were denied the headship. The Hummels had more than enough money and power to bequeath their son, who would soon have a title of his own. He was their son, first and foremost, and a Potter second. Voldemort had made sure of that. If the _familia magica_ were dissatisfied with Kurt, the headship would automatically go to Harry, who, as the last remaining Potter, could not be denied.

In fact, Burt had posited it might be better were Harry to inherit, as it would shore up his political clout. Few dissenters were willing to go against the Head of an Ancient and Most Noble House; to do so would be political suicide.

Besides, it was impossible to guess whether Kurt would even want the onus of responsibility the headship entailed. He would be protected politically as a Hummel, and might turn everything over to Harry to ensure his brother's own protection.

In the end, Suzanne had agreed and the adoption proceeded accordingly. The results weren't very spectacular, as the ritual didn't alter the child's magical core. Kurt's natural aptitude for magic was unimpeded; in fact, it had only grown, with the potential of four powerful witches and wizards coursing through his bloodstream.

Outwardly the differences were few. Kurt's hazel eyes, the legacy of James Potter, had turned a compelling combination of Burt's blue and Suzanne's green, with some gold threads thrown in for good measure. His messy auburn hair had smoothed and darkened into Suzanne's chestnut brown. Kurt had received Suzanne's delicate bone structure and pouty lips.

Once Kurt's identity had been known, there had never been a question of keeping it from him. James and Lily Potter were considered heroes throughout the entire wizarding world, and neither Burt nor Suzanne would keep their son ignorant of the sacrifice his birth parents had made, nor would they deny him his twin brother.

In the United States, a child began their magical education upon their first bout of serious accidental magic. Accidental magic was wild, untrained, and could be quite dangerous if not properly reined in. The average age for education to commence was, as for non-magicals, about five, whereby wizarding children would enter a type of kindergarten, in which they would learn wand care, the fundamentals of magical theory, and a grounding in magical history.

Kurt had started magical school before he was three. That he had been blessed, or cursed, with an eidetic memory, meant he had blown threw the first years of the curriculum with ease in approximately eighteen months. Thankfully, the elementary school also insisted their students learn comparable non-magical studies in conjunction with magical studies. Kurt had also excelled in those.

Kurt had been, at times, a very frustrating child. He was so brilliant, but also very introverted and set apart from his peers. He hadn't begun speaking until well after his second birthday, and then he spoke in complete sentences, rather than the occasional word or phrase. By the time he was six, he was performing calculus, spoke three other languages, and could perform basic transfiguration.

Still, on the whole, he was happy. Then, Suzanne had passed away. Long believing she was sterile, both she and Burt were surprised yet thrilled when she conceived. In about her six month, she began experiencing problems. The miscarriage caused severe hemorrhaging, which even a strict regimen of potions had been unable to resolve. She had died shortly before Kurt's seventh birthday. After that, Kurt had become even more withdrawn from the world around him, disappearing into books and emerging only when unable to solve problems for himself.

It was after Suzanne's death, and only with great reluctance, that Burt informed his son about his birth family. Kurt had been alternately surprised, angry, and hurt. He had raged at Burt for keeping this from him, and related that what he had believed were dreams, or nightmares, about a man with glasses, a woman with red hair, and a boy his age with green eyes. These, he now understood, were memories, and Burt had been horrified that Kurt had seen the death of Lily Potter and had been searching in vain to reestablish the twin bond he'd shared with Harry, a bond which had since been blocked.

Eventually, Kurt and Burt had reconciled, with the former coming to understand that his adoptive parents had never planned on keeping his history from him, merely waiting for the proper time to inform him. Kurt had accepted that easily enough, but had thrown himself into researching the Potter family exhaustively, as well as Voldemort. He had convinced Burt to try and discover everything he could about Harry, but Burt had been able to come up with very little.

It was then that Kurt's grudge against Albus Dumbledore had been born.

After Suzanne's death, Kurt had refused to return to school. They were already struggling to develop an appropriate curriculum for him, and had actually agreed with Kurt that he would fare better with a score of tutors. So, in the end, that's what Burt had done, contracting a number of experts in leading fields to educate his son in both magical and non-magical disciplines.

Kurt had loved it and, in many ways, the private tuition had helped him enormously. He still grieved for his mother and for the loss of Harry, but rather than closing himself off from his father and the rest of the world, Kurt had channeled that energy into learning as much as he could about everything he could, convinced he would one day reunite with his brother and that Harry would need him.

And Kurt had surpassed every goal his tutors, Burt, and Kurt himself had set for him. By the time he was ten, he was fluent in a total of twelve languages, nine non-magical and three magical. His performance in his magical studies was far above average of that of his peers, but he was particularly adept at Transfiguration and nothing less than a prodigy in Charms. He had discovered that those were the best subjects of his birth parents, and thus felt closer to them. He had received preliminary tuition in Ancient Runes, given his facility with languages, and Arithmancy, and excelled greatly at both.

He would enter Hogwarts with the education of at least a fourth-year and the ability of a Masters candidate. He hadn't even approached the power he would one day be able to channel through his core, and thus suffered greatly when he pushed himself past his natural limits, but he was strong, very strong, and was determined that no one other than him would shape his destiny.

Truly, however, it was his fear for Harry which drove his pursuit. The closer it got to their eleventh birthday, the more frantic Kurt had become, knowing that Harry would be delivered from the cage in which he had been imprisoned and trotted through the British wizarding world as some carnival side show.

Kurt knew that Dumbledore had plans for Harry, for why else would he separate them? There was something about Harry that Dumbledore needed, and the only possibility Kurt could determine was that Voldemort wasn't truly dead. Most likely, whatever magic Harry had performed that fateful night had disincorporated Voldemort from his body, leaving an amorphous, though powerless, wraith to travel freely throughout the world.

Eventually, Voldemort would return, and Dumbledore would use Harry to finish him for good.

Kurt was of a quite different opinion on that issue.

Even though their bond had been severed, even though they hadn't seen each other in more than a decade, and even though there was no guarantee they would actually like each other, blood was blood, and Harry was his blood. Kurt wasn't about to let some senile Santa in hideous robes decide his brother's life.

Therefore, in addition to exhaustive studies into the Potter family and Voldemort, Kurt had also discovered as much as he could about Albus Dumbledore, and there had been a lot to unearth.

Dumbledore wasn't that well-regarded outside of the United Kingdom, and while he was paid a certain level of courtesy on the Continent due to his defeat of Grindelwald, he wasn't particularly respected. After all, every continent had a witch or wizard at the same level of Dumbledore; they just weren't showy about it. Luckily, Kurt had had the foresight to become acquainted with at least three of them.

Further, as much as Dumbledoor championed the rights of non-magicals, he was rather rigid toward and dismissive of other world magic traditions, most likely because he didn't understand them. He viewed the Americans as upstarts, the Canadians and Australians as quaint cousins, and Latin America and the Far East, excepting China and Japan, as little more than savages.

Though the information wasn't well known, it was a fact that Dumbledore was barely hanging on to the leadership of the International Confederation of Wizards. He had become entrenched in his own press and power, which were considerable. He wasn't a bad man, but neither was he without his own personal prejudices.

Given his father's position and international standing, Kurt had gone out of his way to make contacts in those societies, particularly with other children. Where the children lead, the parents would eventually follow. He had found two staunch allies in particular, and lucky for him, they were located practically in his backyard.

Kurt smirked as he thought of Santana and Quinn, and the potential damage they could cause Dumbledore.

Burt startled out of his reminisces and looked over at his child, considering the rather evil look on Kurt's face.

"What are you plotting?" he asked.

"World domination," Kurt smoothly replied.

Burt grunted. "Better load up on some carbs, then."

Kurt giggled. "Where are Carole and Finn?"

Burt rolled his eyes. "Back to school shopping. You know how Carole is."

Kurt laughed outright. "I'm sure Finn must be so excited."

Burt snorted. "What time are the girls coming over?"

Kurt checked his watch. "About half an hour. We're expecting Dumbledore by noon."

Burt sighed. "I really wish you would let me stay for this."

Kurt's eyes softened. "I really wish you could," he said, "but it's not a good idea. Dumbledore will think me far more easily manipulated if this decision is mine alone. I want to get a good sense of him, but if you're here, he'll be more apt to play to you than to me. I need to know just how far I can push him, and I want him to recognize that I'm no one's puppet."

"I can't help but worry, baby," Burt said quietly.

"I know," Kurt whispered, "and I can't argue that I'm not somewhat scared, but this is the way it has to be. Besides, Santana and Quinn will be with me. You know we take of each other. Plus, security will be around and the House Elves will be on guard."

Burt sighed, knowing that, as much as he hated it, Kurt was right. Dumbledore would let his guard down somewhat when faced with nothing but three children, even though said children were far from defenseless.

"Don't take any of his shit," was Burt's final word on the matter.

Kurt smirked. "Oh, don't worry. I plan on shoveling a lot of my own, and he's going to eat it with a smile."


	3. Bring the Mountain

After breakfast and several assurances to his father that he would be just fine, Kurt bustled around his bedroom, reviewing his notes and waiting for Santana and Quinn to arrive.

He knew that he should be feeling anxious and perhaps slightly terrified - after all, playing metaphorical chess with an acknowledged master would be a daunting challenge - but Kurt was strangely calm and almost bored with the entire affair.

In the end, he truly had nothing to fear. He, unlike Harry, was not an orphan. He had a parent who would fight to the ends of the earth to keep him safe, and Carole was no slouch, either. He had powerful friends and allies. He was not a British citizen and therefore not subject to any laws Dumbledore might pull out of one of his ridiculous hats. He could leave Hogwarts as quickly as penning a letter of his withdrawal would take.

And, of course, he could always say no. He wasn't required to attend Hogwarts, Dumbledore couldn't compel him in any way, and he could shift his plans accordingly to help Harry from the sidelines.

He nodded, relieved for reviewing his options. Still, his determination was staunch. He couldn't explain it, but something told him that his presence at Hogwarts would be needed, that _Harry_ would need him. That was really all that mattered.

* * *

"We should just kill him," Santana flatly announced.

Quinn rolled her eyes, sipping at her lemon water, legs crossed at the ankle and looking over a few of the dossiers Kurt had compiled. "Thank you for that extremely worthless suggestion."

Santana glared at her. "Well, we should!" she insisted. "Dumbledore is a menace. It's obvious from his wardrobe that he's deeply disturbed."

"She has a point," Kurt acknowledged.

Santana preened.

Quinn ignored them. "I still think we should play this by ear. If we approach this too rigidly, he'll be able to take us by surprise and trap us, either by our own words or resulting actions. We may be powerful and intelligent, but we're still eleven. We don't want him thinking we know more than we do." She raised a brow. "Or should."

Santana grudgingly nodded. "Skipper's right. It will be a lot easier for us in the long run if he thinks we're just obnoxious, entitled brats."

Quinn blinked. "Wait, we're not?"

Kurt and Santana cackled.

Finally, Kurt sighed. "I agree with both of you, but, at the very least, I want him unsettled. That doesn't mean that I plan to reveal anything, but he should be made to feel concerned."

Quinn leaned forward. "Are you absolutely sure? The more suspicious he is, the closer attention he will pay us."

Kurt waved a hand. "He'll do that anyway. It's not as though he would ever dismiss me outright." He shook his head. "No, he wants me there, and he'll be keeping an eye on me, on us. I want him to know that he will be watched, as well."

"Tink's on point, here," Santana said. "We should put him notice immediately, so that he knows we're not just some kids screwing around and susceptible to his Santa Claus bullshit." She tilted her head. "In fact, I'd be surprised if he wasn't anticipating some warning. Our families are powerful, both magically and politically. He might be hot shit in England, but here, he's just cold diarrhea."

Quinn choked on her water and glared. "Don't underestimate him."

"I'm not," Santana shot back, "but he needs to be made aware not to underestimate us, either. Sure, he's powerful; I'm not denying that. I'm just saying that he's bought into his own hype. He's completely oblivious to the fact that he's barely hanging on to his ICW position, which he treats as though it's nothing more than his due. His attendance record at conferences _sucks_, and he's supposed to be the leader. Outside of Europe, Hogwarts is viewed as either a deteriorating powerhouse or an overblown relic."

She shook her head. "Don't even get me started on his leadership of the Wizengamot. You've read the transcripts and opinions as closely as I have. For all of his proclamations about the rights of non-magicals and the wizards and witches born to them, he's done very little to help them. He bleats like an old goat about the nation coming together and healing and blah blah blah, but he says it safely from his castle, where he sits on his golden throne and pile of money, stroking his Order of Merlin and secure in the knowledge that almost no one knows he's of mixed blood."

She bit her lip. "Frankly, if I wasn't a pureblood, you wouldn't be able to get me to set foot in that country. It won't be much longer before those of non-magical parents are moving to Iran, just so they can get some rights."

"Agreed," Quinn said, voice crisp. She then sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried."

"We all are, darling," Kurt said, "and I want to reiterate that you absolutely do not have to do this."

Her eyes flared with indignation. "Don't start with that nonsense, Hummel, or I'll have Berry here in two minutes to serenade you with Streisand's greatest hits."

Kurt curled a lip. "You would commit such blasphemy?" he hissed.

"To keep you from being an idiot?" she asked sweetly, shrugging. "Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

He gave her major side-eye.

Santana had to admit, if only to herself, that Quinn's threat, while not terribly creative, was nonetheless extremely effective. No one needed that pygmy caterwauling about the way she was. Besides, people who needed people were not the luckiest people in the world. They were the stupidest.

Well, except for her needing Quinn and Kurt, but no one needed to know about that.

She nodded to herself. Right!

"Fine," Kurt grunted, wiping his face with a hand. "We'll approach this delicately and with some measure of pliability on our part. There's no point in showing our hand all at once."

"Threats and intimidation?" asked a hopeful Santana.

Kurt grinned. "Possibly."

"Violence?" she cheerfully shrieked.

"Only if absolutely necessary," Quinn demurred.

Santana scowled. "Damn."

Kurt startled slightly. "The wards have been activated." He looked down at his watch and raised a brow. "Right on time."

Their Occlumency shields snapped into place.

"Should we leave until you call for us?" Quinn asked.

Kurt shook his head. "We have a few moments. He'll have to get past the General first."

* * *

"State your intentions."

A bewildered Albus Dumbledore stared at the tall and fearsome witch before him. This woman, in terms of sheer power and personality, could best be described as the product of an unholy union between Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall. She was terrifying.

"I beg your pardon, madam," he said humbly. "I am here to speak with young Kurt Hummel."

"Name?"

Dumbledore was flummoxed. It was extremely rare for him to be unrecognized by a witch or wizard, even outside of the United Kingdom. His fame, once something he had purposefully sought, was sometimes a burden due to the expectations which came with it, but it was often useful. However, this woman either truly had no idea as to his identity, or couldn't have cared less. He honestly wasn't sure which perturbed him more.

"Albus Dumbledore."

General Sue Sylvester made a great show of running down the endless ream of paper attached to her clipboard, whistling a merry tune all the while. "You're not on the list."

She then turned her back on him, which suggested that she was either ignorant as to his power or truly uncaring of it.

Dumbledore found this greatly disturbing. He stood there for several moments, merely blinking and debating his next course of action. He had done a cursory scan on the domicile and knew the wards were impenetrable. He doubted even Goblins could bring them down, and he was fascinated by the power which had created them.

Further, he knew that, as a foreigner, despite his positions, he could be charged with any number of crimes were he to attempt to enter by force. He certainly didn't need that aggravation, especially as causing an international incident would be playing right into the clammy hands of Cornelius Fudge.

"Excuse me," he said.

Sue whirled around and cocked an eyebrow. "Still here?"

"Er, yes," he said slowly. "I really must speak with Master Hummel."

"Why?" she demanded. "Further, why didn't you make an appointment with his social secretary?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Social secretary? A boy of eleven has a social secretary?"

Sue gave the old fart a hard stare, searching his eyes for something Dumbledore couldn't hope to fathom. She found it, however, and smirked.

Oh, this was too delicious. The famed Dumbledore had absolutely no idea upon whose door he was trying to knock! She snorted and shook her head. Poor form, indeed. Well, far be it from her to inform him, but she couldn't wait to see the fallout.

"First of all, he's ten. His birthday isn't for three weeks. Second, of course he has a social secretary," Sue bit back, her tone scathing. "Not just anyone can see him. They first have to make an appointment, then must be properly vetted after exhaustive background checks. After that, they receive a preliminary clearance and are granted temporary credentials to seek an audience with him."

"An audience!" repeated an astounded Dumbledore. "To speak with a mere boy requires meeting such strident conditions?"

Seeing the look on her face, he instantly regretted his words.

Sue's eyes turned arctic. "What did you just say?" she asked slowly.

Far too slowly for Dumbledore's liking.

"I'm terribly sorry," he began. "I believe we're suffering from some miscommunication."

"Mere boy!" Sue roared. She poked a finger at Dumbledore's chest. Hard. "Listen up, you refugee from a thrift store carnival sideshow! I have been tasked personally with the security of one Kurt Hummel, also known as Alabaster, and that is a duty I hold as a sacred privilege! Anything trying to get to him goes through me first, and if I don't like what I hear..." she trailed off, cracking her knuckles and rolling her neck.

Sue was having an immensely pleasant experience but knew she had to move this along were Alabaster's plan to work. She stepped back and stood at attention.

"I suggest you state your business immediately if you do not wish to be forcibly removed from the premises," she said dispassionately.

"Might I ask your name?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No names, no credentials," Sue snapped out. "State your business."

Defeated, Albus brandished Kurt's letter of admission to Hogwarts. "I would like to invite Master Hummel to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said softly.

Sue snatched the letter out of his hand, pulled her wand, and began casting a series of high-level spells.

Dumbledore noticed she was checking for illegal portkeys; hexes, curses, and jinxes; poisons; and possible other Dark activity. He was reluctantly impressed with her repertoire and thoroughness. He couldn't possibly imagine why a young boy required such security and realized he had vastly underestimated this situation, much to his own detriment.

"Acceptable," Sue finally pronounced. "Now, after you show me your International Portkey authorization and Customs paperwork, I will contact Alabaster to see if he is willing to meet with you."

He blinked. Oh, dear. He had created his own portkey, not bothering to go through the proper channels for what he had assumed would be a meet-and-greet of no more than a few hours. After all, he was Albus Dumbledore.

His silence suggested as much to Sue, across whose face a cold smirk spread.

Dumbledore shuddered.

* * *

After having to defend himself most vociferously, including swearing a magical oath that he was not a terrorist and several other oaths falling under that umbrella, Sue reluctantly allowed Dumbledore to pass.

"Enigma!" she roared.

A lovely young redhead instantly appeared at her side, bowing her head. "General?" she prompted, ready for her orders.

"Escort the Sorcerer's Apprentice to the main house," she barked. "The Hair Bear will be waiting to collect and introduce him to Alabaster."

Emma Pillsbury saluted her commanding officer. "Sir!"

She then set off at a brisk pace, expecting Dumbledore to follow, which he did, though admittedly with some difficulty.

Once again, Albus was ruminating on the fact the he had bungled this operation, and badly. Never had he suspected that Kurt Hummel would be so difficult to access. He had been rather lax about maintaining surveillance on the boy, much as he had Harry Potter. He had merely assumed a decade previous that he had prepared matters as sufficiently as possible, and they wouldn't trouble him in the future.

Obviously, he had miscalculated. Harry was still safely tucked away at the Dursleys, but Kurt's adoptive family apparently wielded more power and influence than Dumbledore could have ever imagined. Had he been wrong to separate the twins all those years ago?

He shook his head.

After the brief battle which had taken the lives of James and Lily Potter, there had been no question that it had been Harry who defeated Voldemort. The young boy had been marked, as the prophecy had insisted he would be, while young Liam - _Kurt_, he automatically corrected himself - had suffered no ill effects, nor had he displayed any magical exhaustion or even a hint that magic had either touched or been released by him.

No, Harry was most definitely the child of the prophecy, and thus had to be sequestered from the magical world for his own safety, as well as the safety of all magical citizens. Immediately following the discorporation of Voldemort, the magical world of Britain had descended into even further chaos.

Voldemort had been a monster, to be certain, a powerful psychopath who wanted nothing but to bend the world to his will, but he had also ruled his followers with an iron fist. In the wake of his death or, as his minions had insisted, his disappearance, they had scrambled to lay claim to his cause and army.

Lucius Malfoy had opted for the political route, claiming to be a victim of the _Imperius_ curse, which had truly been so much nonsense. He had secured for himself a pardon and spent the past decade rebuilding his family name and insinuating himself into every aspect of the magical government, bringing along several of his fellow Death Eaters and securing them high-level posts within the Ministry.

Bellatrix LeStrange, perhaps even more deranged than her Master, continued Voldemort's martial efforts to the best of her ability, executing as many Muggleborns and halfbloods as possible, based solely on principle. She also had routed dozens of purebloods who had been opposed to Voldemort, whom she viewed as blood-traitors. One such family was the Longbottoms, whom she had attacked two weeks later, looking for information about her Master.

Great Merlin, Albus silently moaned, walking through a sun-dappled copse of trees. How much further was this house! He discreetly cast some cooling charms on his robes. The young woman accompanying him apparently had no such troubles and hadn't even broken a sweat. Oh, he envied the young.

That thought returned him to those previous. He had every confidence that Harry was the true Boy Who Lived, but it simply wouldn't do not to keep a close eye on the twin brother, and Neville Longbottom for that matter.

Voldemort wasn't truly dead, of that he was certain, and while Harry was destined to end him, it was just as possible that Harry himself might meet an untimely demise. Were the worst to happen, Kurt Hummel or young Neville might be the only hope wizarding Britain had to throw off the yoke of Voldemort once and for all.

Tremendous guilt coursed through his veins as he was reminded of his many failures.

He had failed to curb Tom Riddle's descent into madness, which had led to the perversion of a once promising youth and the deaths of so many wonderful families, people Albus had considered dear friends. Their loss weighed heavily on his conscience every single day.

He had obviously failed Sirius Black, though he didn't know precisely when that failure had occurred. What had happened to the rebellious, if generally kind and decent, young man who had stood up to his imposing family and sided with his brothers by choice? He shook his head ruefully. He had never seen Sirius's betrayal coming, and he often rued his lack of foresight in that particular matter. He regretted that Sirius was subjected daily to the torture of the Dementors, but another part of himself, one he was loath to examine too closely, felt satisfaction that the young man was where he belonged.

He had failed James and Lily Potter so badly that it brought tears to his eyes every time he even thought their names. There was no reason they had to die; the Fidelius charm absolutely would have worked. He should have insisted upon another Secret Keeper. The Marauders were well known throughout wizarding Britain for their unusually close friendship. He should have borne the duty himself, or perhaps asked Minerva to shoulder it. Instead, he had allowed the Potters to choose Sirius, who was far too young and too brash, who had betrayed them.

He shook his head and reminded himself to check in on Remus, the poor man.

He had failed Frank and Alice Longbottom. He still didn't understand how the Fidelius at Longbottom Manor had been breached that night, how the LeStranges and Barty Crouch, Jr. had been able to determine its location. He had never pressed Augusta on the matter. The woman had always been a fearsome witch who wasn't one to discuss family matters with outsiders, regardless of affiliation. The woman had grown bitter at the loss of her son and his wife, and Merlin could only guess how her intransigence had affected Neville, who was far more important than anyone knew.

He could only hope that he hadn't failed in his duty to young Harry. He knew placing the child with the Dursleys was, at best, a crap shoot. Lily had been quite vocal about the shortcomings of her sister, but he was sure that Petunia would care, even if only grudgingly, for Lily's child, knowing Lily would have done the same for the Dursley lad. He had known when he had made the decision that Harry would have a difficult life with that family, but it had been paramount to keep him out of the wizarding world, to keep him safe. While it wasn't acknowledged, everyone knew that former Death Eaters had weaseled their way into the upper echelons of their society. Harry had to be protected at all costs.

"It's just a bit further," said the young woman accompanying him, for which Albus was most glad.

And then there was Liam - _Kurt_, he once again forcefully corrected. He still was unsure if he had been right to separate the twins. In fact, he was quite positive that James and Lily were cursing him from their graves. Perhaps it had been a rash decision. Perhaps it had indeed been the wrong choice, but those months after Voldemort's fall had been as terrifying and draining as his attempted conquest.

Albus had known that Harry was the strongest of the twins and that unscrupulous people would have sought to manipulate Kurt, even harm him, to get their hands on his brother. He also doubted the Dursleys would have been willing to take two children. Perhaps he should have looked for other relatives, no matter how distant? Of course there were no guarantees the blood wards would have held, depending on the number of degrees from Lily's blood of these possible other relatives.

There was also the fact that Albus still didn't know what spell or charm Lily had used to protect Harry, and while it was logical to assume she had used it on her other son, there was no guarantee she had. Further, he believed the magic of the spell had been powered by Voldemort's attack. Based on the evidence at Godric's Hollow, Voldemort had targeted Harry first, and was then vanquished. Kurt had been untouched.

He repressed a sigh. Part of being a leader was making difficult decisions and then pondering over them forever.

But Kurt was safe. That was what was important. He was secure.

As the wide path of pavement gave way to the foot of the drive, his mouth fell open at the residence before him.

The grandeur of this house was of the likes he had never before seen. Thoroughly modern, it was certainly on par with Malfoy Manor or Potter Castle. The dwelling appeared to go on forever in both directions. It was bright and cheerful, however, despite its size. Albus could honestly say he had never seen anything like it. Was this home typical for Americans? Had Kurt been adopted by an obscenely wealthy family?

He should have questioned Alastor more thoroughly as to where the man had placed the child. After they had Obliviated the knowledge of Kurt's existence from the few who had known, all Moody had said, from the safety of his Floo, was that the boy had been placed with extremely distant relatives of Alastor's own mother, some place in the United States, and couldn't be in safer hands.

Alastor had used his position to Obliviate Remus, followed by Sirius, before the latter had been thrown into Azakaban. Thank Merlin that Peter had already been dead by then, taking the secret of the Potter twins to his grave. Outside of Moody, the Marauders, Frank and Alice Longbottom, the Potters, and Albus himself, no one else had known Lily had given birth to twins.

Alastor then had himself Obliviated by a friend who was an Unspeakable and wouldn't ask too many questions. Constant vigilance indeed.

The only reason Albus even knew Liam Potter was now known as Kurt Hummel was because of the admissions letter, addressed to an unknown boy in America.

And soon he was to meet this boy.

Considering the security surrounding the child and the impressive compound sprawling before him, Albus could admit, even if only to himself, that he was almost as anxious as he was intrigued.

* * *

Dragging his weary carcass up the front steps, Albus was surprised when the heavy double doors were thrown open and he was greeted by a young man wearing a delightful garment that was half-jumper and half-vest. The kaleidoscope of colors present in this marvel were enthralling. Albus made a mental note to ask later after the man's tailor.

The hair was unfortunate, but the man's blinding smile was at least welcoming.

"Hello! You must be Mr. Dumbledore. My name is Will Schuester. I'm Mr. Hummel's personal assistant."

As Albus shook the man's proffered hand, bewildered that Kurt had not only a social secretary but a personal assistant, Will made cow eyes at the young woman next to him.

"Thank you, Emma," Will bleated.

Emma Pillsbury made the appropriate comments and quickly departed to return to her post.

"A pleasant young woman," Albus noted.

Will nodded enthusiastically. "Emma's very nice."

Albus smiled at Mr. Schuester's obvious infatuation. Ah, young love! It was grand. "May I ask the name of the formidable witch I met at the gate?"

Will shuddered. "Sue Sylvester. She is truly frightening, and has the power to back up her threats."

"Is she an Auror?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dumbledore," Will said officiously, "but I'm not permitted to speak of Ms. Sylvester's qualifications. That information is classified." He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. "I understand you are here to speak with Mr. Hummel?"

Albus nodded. "Correct, young man. Is he available?"

Will tutted and ushered the man into the foyer. "You're very lucky. Mr. Hummel had a speaking engagement that was canceled due to security issues. It's rare that he has a break in his schedule. He has agreed to meet with you, however."

Speaking engagement? Albus was completely baffled, but nodded pleasantly. "Outstanding!"


	4. Bargaining

**Author's Note**: A quick reminder that Kurt, Santana, and Quinn are the protagonists of this story and I'm writing them as young adults, not children. They're devious, manipulative, and powerful. If that's not your cup of tea, or you believe that children are incapable of acting as such, please move along. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

William Schuester led Albus Dumbledore into a well-appointed parlor, advised him that Mr. Hummel would be with him presently, and offered refreshment.

Dumbledore declined, took his seat, and waited, looking around the room with appreciation. The walls were a lovely sage and the mahogany floors gleamed to the extent that they reflected the furnishing, all of which were exquisite antiques. He looked longingly at the Queen Anne chair opposite him. The Turkish rugs scattered throughout the room looked freshly woven, though he knew they were quite old.

It was a grand room in a thoroughly bewitching home. He wondered how young Kurt had fared, being reared in such opulence. He could only hope the boy wasn't the American version of Draco Malfoy, a child whose reputation for being utterly spoiled preceded him.

Albus was startled out of his silent reverie by the gentle clearing of a throat.

"Good morning, Mr. Dumbledore," Kurt said politely. "I understand you wished to speak with me."

"Ah, Mr. Hummel!" the man exclaimed, rising to his feet.

His thoughts raced as he got his first look at this mysterious child.

He was at first confused by Kurt's appearance, for he looked nothing like James or Lily, quickly realizing the boy must have been blood-adopted by his surrogate parents. This was somewhat troubling, and it bothered him that he hadn't planned for this possibility.

He couldn't help but notice that Kurt Hummel was an absolutely beautiful boy, and it certainly wasn't difficult to imagine why that Sylvester woman referred to him as Alabaster. His skin looked like fine china. His hair was dark and glossy, like mink. It was the eyes, however, that were his most arresting feature, for they were of a color to which Dumbledore could ascribe no name.

Despite this, however, he was able to see some traces of the Potters. Kurt had Lily's almond-shaped eyes and the stubborn tilt of James's chin. The boy was also quite small, certainly undersize for his age, which also hallmarked his birth parents. Lily had been petite, and while James had been larger than life, he had also been the shortest of his friends.

"I'm very pleased to meet you," Albus finally said, "and I thank you for accommodating my request for an audience. You may address me as Headmaster Dumbledore."

Kurt arched a brow. "Forgive me, Mr. Dumbledore, but you are not my headmaster. How may I help you?"

Dumbledore deflated a bit, but kept a sunny smile on his face. He was slightly annoyed at the rebuff, but could not find fault with the lad's reasoning. The boy was also exceedingly polite. Still, Albus had the feeling that said politeness was somewhat forced, as though he were perturbed by this interruption. He nodded.

"Quite true, quite true, my boy," Albus said.

He faltered when Kurt's eyes narrowed at the address. Too late, Albus realized he was being entirely too familiar with the child.

"Again, thank you for seeing me, and I apologize if my unannounced visit has caused any upset."

Albus didn't mean his words, and it was obvious that Kurt was aware of it. Interesting.

Kurt smiled blandly. "I am happy to accommodate a wizard of you station, sir," he said, indicating with a wave of his hand that Albus should resume his seat as he took the one opposite. He feigned patience with Dumbledore's woolgathering and waited for the man to make his first parry.

"I understand you had an unexpected pause in your schedule," Albus said cautiously.

Kurt nodded. "Indeed. I had a speaking engagement that was unfortunately canceled at the last minute, due to the escalated terror level."

Albus blinked. He was aware that relations between the United States and the Middle East were precarious at the moment, though he remained ignorant of most of the details, but he couldn't possibly fathom what they had to do with the boy before him.

"Merely a precaution," Kurt continued. "One can never be too careful with security."

"Yes, of course," said a very confused Albus.

Kurt then realized Dumbledore had absolutely no idea to whom he was speaking.

How very awkward. He should resolve that immediately.

Truthfully, however, he wasn't too surprised. It was apparent from Dumbledore's dismal governance of the ICW that he paid little attention to politics outside of Europe. Still, it was somewhat off-putting that Dumbledore had done little to no research prior to this meeting. It unbalanced Kurt somewhat, and he was resentful of it. Regardless, he would turn this to his advantage.

"I have to take a moment and express how impressed I was with your leadership of the conference last year in Prague," Kurt lied.

Albus stared briefly. "You were there?" he blurted out, before a light blush stained his cheeks.

"Yes," Kurt replied, ignoring the gaffe for the sake of propriety. He paused and then decided to go in for the kill. "Mr. Dumbledore, please don't take offense, but are you unaware that I am the Global Youth Ambassador for the Magical United States?"

"I...I beg your pardon?" Albus croaked, his skin taking on a waxy pallor.

Oh, _dear_.

How in the name of Merlin had he not known this? Granted, he had paid little attention to the GYAP beyond the initial discussion in the ICW. After all, it was designed to be its own body, functioning much like the Muggle United Nations, though on a smaller scale and with quite young representatives, all in the spirit of fostering international magical cooperation. Most of Western Europe had thought it an interesting if basically worthless idea, and had laughed it off. Certainly Albus himself hadn't paid it much notice.

Apparently, this was a tragic oversight.

He hadn't known it had even entered the pilot stage, let alone advanced to such a degree that one of its members apparently held speaking engagements which were threatened by international terrorists!

He was horribly embarrassed and not a little upset that his plan to awe this boy had failed so spectacularly. Even though Kurt had acknowledged his position within the ICW, it was obvious he was hardly impressed. After all, as a Global Youth Ambassador, and apparently one who was quite active in that role, Kurt probably enjoyed a fair bit of celebrity himself.

The more he dwelt on this, the angrier Albus became with himself. Among his many titles, the one in which he took most pride was Headmaster of Hogwarts. The idea that he had so blatantly dismissed a promising program spearheaded by wizarding children spanning across the entire globe was appalling.

Further, he should have suspected something like this when Kurt had announced he had been present at the Prague conference, for he would have had no reason to be there otherwise. The Magical United States was one of the more progressive countries in the wizarding world, even more so than their Muggle counterparts. Blood status played no role in their politics and sentient magical creatures had been given protected status in their Constitution.

The MUS had even gone so far as to disavow the ICW at the turn of the last century for refusing to allow women to hold positions of power, a lamentable practice that unfortunately continued to this day. Instead, the MUS had forged alliances with several countries, including some in the ICW who, while disappointed by that body's prejudices, still retained membership.

Notable amongst them were Ireland, France, Italy, Scandinavia, a contingent of the Eastern Bloc, Japan, and even Canada and Australia, who did as much as possible to further themselves from their British cousins. Of these countries, few exercised or enjoyed the power of the MUS, and those European nations included had longstanding feuds with Britain.

Kurt frowned. "I apologize, Mr. Dumbledore. I was under the impression you were here to speak with me about the plans for the GYAP conference next year in Reykjavík. Was I mistaken, or is it that you wished to speak with my father?"

"Your father?" Albus repeated, new fear dawning in his eyes.

The frown deepened. "Yes, Burt Hummel." Kurt raised both eyebrows at the man's unnerved silence. "The Vice President of the Magical United States?"

Albus's mouth fell open in horror.

Kurt stared. "I see," he said slowly.

It took everything within him not to cackle uproariously.

This was _far_ better than he had anticipated!

* * *

For the first time in more years than he would care to consider, Albus was speechless. He didn't particularly enjoy the experience at all.

In the space of a handful of moments, his hopes for shepherding Kurt Hummel into the stiff arms of British magical society were dashed. He was quite sure that Kurt probably held the same beliefs as many other nations: namely, that magical Britain was backward, insular, and corrupt; which, frankly, it was.

Even were that not the case, how could he possibly hope to entice a boy who was not only an international political figure, but the son of the man who was the second in command of an entire nation, one that was almost forty times the size of the United Kingdom, with a magical population more than a hundredfold in number?

Kurt Hummel already had a social secretary, a personal assistant, and a chief of security who would frighten gargoyles. He was articulate if reserved, obviously intelligent, handsome, and had probably mastered the art of rhetoric. At the tender age of ten, Kurt enjoyed more wealth and political power than most adult wizards and witches could even dream of possessing.

He was what that spoiled brat Draco Malfoy could only wish to become.

A place at Hogwarts was hardly likely to impress Kurt Hummel.

Albus was ruing the entire day, if not the past ten years, when an even more disturbing thought entered his mind. What had become of Harry? Somehow he doubted the boy was enjoying life as much as his twin, and given that Albus had never bothered to check up on the lad, assuming Petunia would well care for him, Merlin only knew what might have befallen Harry.

He paled as he remembered he was planning to send Hagrid to introduce Harry to the magical world. What utter folly! He had hoped the man would present to the doubtlessly impressionable lad the more positive side of magical Britain, but now he realized that Hagrid was ill-equipped to handle the numerous questions Harry was sure to have!

No, this wouldn't do at all. Hagrid might have had his complete trust, but both of them had failed to consider that while Harry might have been born in the magical world, he had been raised as a Muggle. In fact, given his letter to Petunia, it was entirely possible the woman had told Harry _nothing_ of what was to come. Indeed, that was the most likely scenario. Lily had always insisted her sister was nothing if not spiteful.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Hummel," Albus said, voice faint, "but I've just realized I've neglected a rather pressing matter. Might I impose upon you to allow my familiar entrance to your home so that I might send a message?"

Kurt blinked. "Of course, Mr. Dumbledore, but couldn't you simply call the other party?"

"Call?"

"Oh, forgive me," Kurt said contritely. "I forgot that wizarding Britain still uses owls."

Dumbledore was confused. "And the United States does not?"

"No, sir," Kurt said blankly. "We use telephones or email."

Albus shook his head to clear it, having no idea what on earth email was supposed to be. Instead, he closed his eyes and summoned his magic to the surface, sending out a telepathic message to Fawkes.

A moment later, Fawkes appeared in the room in a ball of flame, flying in frantic circles and trilling happily.

"A phoenix," Kurt reverently whispered, his eyes agog at the spectacle.

Fawkes released another trill and alighted on the headrest of Kurt's chair, bending over and playfully pecking the boy on the top of his head, sending Kurt into gales of giggles.

Dumbledore smiled softly at the sight. He took comfort in the sight of the overly serious boy laughing as though he hadn't a care in the world.

Even after all these years, Fawkes still both intimidated and fascinated him. He would never presume to understand his friend, merely taking comfort in the fact that Fawkes had remained loyal to him for so very long. He quickly conjured a piece of parchment and then debated about what to write.

Whom should he send to young Harry? Minerva was a wise choice; after all, she had been introducing the Muggleborn to the magical world for decades. Still, she was a very dour woman who was more intimidating than she realized. Severus was out of the question for a plethora of reasons.

His eyes brightened.

Filius!

Yes, Flitwick was the perfect candidate. The man was jovial and of a good humor, but he was also a remarkable duelist and could protect Harry should the need arise. Further, his diminutive size and cheerful disposition had made him a favorite among the students for as long as anyone could remember. There was also the bonus that Lily Potter had been his preferred student and a treasured friend. Albus was sure Filius would take the utmost care in guiding Harry through this confusing time.

He quickly penned his missive and sent it off with Fawkes, noting the sadness that punctuated Kurt's face when the majestic creature departed.

"You are a very fortunate man, sir," Kurt said, still staring at the space which Fawkes had occupied only seconds before.

Albus inclined his head. "I am, indeed, Mr. Hummel. Still, it is sometimes necessary for me to be reminded of this fact, lest I become ungrateful for my many blessings. Therefore, I thank you."

Kurt nodded and then decided to forgo pretense altogether. "Mr. Dumbledore, why are you here?" he asked.

Albus blinked at the frank manner before smiling slightly. Although it was not his preferred method of communication, he did appreciate those who didn't suffer fools. In this moment, Kurt Hummel reminded him a lot of Minerva McGonagall. He was also relieved that Fawkes' appearance had distracted the boy from questioning why Albus didn't know he was the son of the Vice President.

Kurt wasn't distracted, of course, but was perfectly willing for Dumbledore to assume otherwise. There was no need to show his hand all at once.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, though it sounded more like pontificating, as he nodded his head.

Kurt barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Are you aware, Mr. Hummel, that you were born in the United Kingdom?"

Kurt stared at him. Really? _This_ was his grand opening?

"Of course I am," he replied, letting some annoyance creep into his voice. At Dumbledore's startled look, Kurt _did_ roll his eyes. "I assume that what you really want to ask me is whether or not I know I'm adopted. The answer is yes, though I can't possibly imagine how it concerns you or why you believe this to be any of your business."

Albus had the grace to flush slightly, acknowledging that the child had a point. He had shown up at the boy's home unannounced and obviously ignorant of the boy himself and his family, and had then proceeded to dance around what was a family issue, perhaps even a family secret.

He truly didn't understand how he had managed to err this badly. If he didn't know better, he would believe himself to be under some spell or befuddlement curse, but that was ridiculous.

He shook his head, missing the slight smirk on Kurt's face.

Apparently, Dumbledore was unaware that, though he was now a politician, Burt Hummel held a mastery in warding. There were just all sorts of interesting spells one could weave into a ward, if one had the expertise, including a surface scan of the house's occupants, much along the lines of Occlumency. That information would be relayed to the one who held the wards. Coincidentally, Burt had shifted temporary control of them to Kurt just that very morning.

"I'm well aware of my own adoption, Mr. Dumbledore," Kurt said sharply, "as well as its circumstances. I repeat my question: how is this any of your concern?"

Dumbledore fidgeted, wondering why he found this child so unnerving. The more time he spent in this house, the more out of sorts he felt. Kurt Hummel was unnaturally prepossessed for one so young, and it bothered him. He had yet to see any trace of whimsy or innocence in the boy, save the earlier grand entrance by Fawkes, and it reminded him of another boy he had once failed.

He was determined not to fail Kurt and Harry.

"You may not be aware, Mr. Hummel, that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry keeps records of all magical children born in the United Kingdom. As such, you were registered with the school at the moment of your birth." He beamed. "Congratulations! You have been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Kurt regarded him placidly. "Well, thank you, Mr. Dumbledore, but I have no interest in attending your school. Was there anything else?"

"I beg your pardon, young man?" Dumbledore asked, disbelief plain on his face.

Kurt slowly repeated his statement.

"You don't wish to go to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore rumbled, thunderstruck.

Kurt sighed softly and leaned back in his chair. "Mr. Dumbledore, how familiar are you with the educational system here in the Magical United States?"

"Regrettably, not very."

Kurt nodded as though he had expected as much, which Albus found slightly annoying. "I know that in the United Kingdom, magicals matriculate at age eleven, correct?" At Dumbledore's nod, he continued. "Here, we begin training after our first serious bout of accidental magic."

Dumbledore's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"I began schooling shortly after my second birthday," Kurt added, much to Dumbledore's shock. He winced. "I apparated from my crib to my high chair in the kitchen, splinching myself in the process."

"You...you apparated?" Dumbledore whispered.

Surely this was an exaggeration! Such a thing couldn't be possible, for, were it true, the child's power must have been incalculable! Had he gotten things so very wrong? Was Kurt truly the more powerful of the Potter twins?

But Harry had been the one to defeat Voldemort; he had been, and was still, absolutely sure of this. He had run exhaustive tests after the event, and every single one had confirmed that Kurt had expended no magic during the encounter.

Of course, that simply could've meant that, as he had believed, Voldemort had attacked Harry first and Harry had defended himself. However, what if Harry had _not _been protecting his brother as originally thought? What if Harry had been reacting to his mother's murder? Or perhaps it had been the boy's own survival instinct kicking in?

Great Merlin! What would have happened had Voldemort instead gone for Kurt? There were many things which, admittedly, Dumbledore did not understand, one of which was the mystery of twins. Rare in the magical world, twins were an enigma which had been little researched. Identical twins were the norm, while fraternal sets, of which the Potters were one, were even more obscure.

Was Kurt as powerful as Dumbledore believed Harry to be? Was Kurt, perhaps, even more powerful? James and Lily Potter, while well matched spiritually, had not been of similar magical strength. Lily had far and away been the stronger of the two, though she had died before much of that potential could be actualized.

When people referred to her as the brightest witch of her age - and even the most surly Purebloods could agree on that, hatred of her notwithstanding - what they really meant that she had been the most powerful. That sometimes happened within a generation. Dumbledore had been the strongest of his generation, Tom Riddle of his own, Lily Potter of hers, and, Albus strongly suspected, Harry, or possibly Kurt, was the strongest of theirs.

Outside of Lily, who had been Muggleborn, the three most powerful magic wielders in British magical history were of allegedly mixed blood.

"I'm above average in magical strength," Kurt blithely continued, "but what I lack in raw power, I make up for with sheer determination." He shrugged. "I wanted a cookie."

Dumbledore stared.

Kurt shrugged again, this time with diffidence. "I really liked cookies!" he said defensively. "I was two years old!"

Dumbledore shook his head to clear it, his mouth quivering beneath his beard. "So you've been receiving a magical education for almost a decade."

Kurt nodded. "Thus I am far more advanced than the typical first year Hogwarts student. Were I to accept your invitation, I would not only be held back and bored out of my mind, but the other students would come to resent me." He shook his head. "I've played that game before, and I have no desire to do so again."

Dumbledore decided this required a different tack. "May I ask as to what your education has consisted of so far?"

Kurt nodded and smiled, obviously pleased to discuss such matters. Albus correctly interpreted this to mean that the boy loved learning. "Most of my training has been in magical theory," he explained, "though I do well enough on the practical.

"I've studied the usual subjects: Transfiguration; Charms; Potions; Magical Botany, which I believe you refer to as Herbology; and, finally, Cryptozoology and Martial Studies. I think the closest analogues in the British educational system are Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Additionally, for the past two years I have been studying the theory behind Arithmancy and Runic Magic, as well as several other disciplines, though I have not focused on the practical portions."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Dumbledore, but I believe there is very little your school can offer me. Further, I receive private instruction and am unused to competing against others for grades or the attentions of a teacher. Frankly, I have no wish to disrupt a system in which I excel. Also, I have a commitment to the GYAP for the next seven years, one which I fully intend, and am contractually bound, to honor."

As much as he wanted to argue those points, Dumbledore knew he would be unable to do so without sounding petty or eliciting suspicions which he didn't really wish to combat. How the devil was he to convince the child to come to Hogwarts without revealing his true intentions?

"Finally," Kurt said, "I have two companions with whom I am very close. I have been receiving instruction with them for years, and I will not be separated from them."

Kurt suppressed maniacal laughter when he saw a gleam enter Dumbledore's eyes. He had successfully cast the net, and now there was nothing left to do but watch as Dumbledore attempted to reel him in.

Dumbledore smiled magnanimously. "I am more than happy to extend invitations to your companions, Mr. Hummel. I find your dedication to your scholarly pursuits to be quite commendable." He paused. "Frankly, Hogwarts could do with students of your caliber."

Kurt wondered just how much that admission had cost the man.

"I suppose I could discuss it with them," he said slowly, ignoring Dumbledore's beam, "but I'm confused, sir. I was unaware that Hogwarts recruited from the international magical community. From my understanding, you cater specifically to the United Kingdom. I may have been born there, but I no longer hold citizenship, and neither do my companions."

Dumbledore certainly hadn't been expecting that, which was apparent from the look on his face. He then brightened. "Surely you aware that members of the United Kingdom can hold dual citizenship?"

"I am," Kurt drawled, "but my British citizenship was renounced upon my adoption. My father is American and my mother was French, so I am already a dual citizen."

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed at his use of the past tense. "Was?" he softly repeated. "Then your mother is no longer with us?"

Kurt became rigid, furious with himself for the unintentional slip. It was nothing he hadn't planned to reveal later, but he wanted to do so under circumstances of his own making. He was sure that Dumbledore would try to manipulate him with this information, though he didn't as yet know the manner.

"She died when I was six," he said coldly. "I do not wish to discuss it."

Dumbledore wisely backed off, but he mourned for this boy, who had lost three parents in his short life. It was most unjust.

"My father has since remarried," Kurt said. "Her name is Carole, and she is a lovely woman. Additionally, I gained a stepbrother, Finn, with whom I am very close. The idea of being away from him for ten months out of the year is not a pleasant one."

Dumbledore silently cursed, once again furious that he had been so lax in keeping tabs on Kurt and his brother. He had never even conceived that siblings would be an issue, as it was rare for magical families to have more than one child. The Weasleys were the exception rather than the rule.

Kurt knew he had to dangle a carrot in front of the old man, who was swiftly losing hope in his mission.

"However," he said slowly, "I must admit that the opportunity to receive tuition from some of your instructors is worthy of consideration."

Dumbledore sat up straight. "You are aware of our faculty?"

"Some of them," Kurt replied. "Part of my instruction includes reading and writing synopses of the research in current periodicals. I have read several such articles written by Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, and Filius Flitwick." He allowed a small smile. "I am most impressed."

Dumbledore took pride in that statement, though he regretfully noted that only four of his faculty had been included. Of course, Vector and Sinistra were relatively young and had you to make their marks in their respective disciplines, though he was certain they would. Kettleburn was more interested in wrangling his animals than actually studying them; Muggle Studies was sneered at by most of Britain, so Babbling's exclusion was of no surprise; and Trewlaney...well.

Regardless, he was determined to put his best foot forward, now that Kurt was more engaged in the conversation.

"Are there particular disciplines you favor?" he asked jovially.

Kurt inclined his head. "I am most interested in Potions and Charms. I am skilled enough in Transfiguration, but am unable to appreciate it for the art it is. I am too much of a perfectionist and am easily frustrated. Transfiguration requires a great deal of patience and precision, which, though I possess for Potions, I do not for Transfiguration. I am, of course, aware of your reputation in the field, and I have found Professor McGonagall's research to be compulsory reading. The woman is absolutely brilliant."

Dumbledore beamed once more and couldn't wait to discuss this with Minerva, who often felt her skill was unappreciated by the students. Kurt's interest in Charms and Potions was also intriguing, given they had been Lily's best subjects. Perhaps Kurt took after her then, while Harry would hallmark James. Of course, that could also be a problem, especially among certain members of the staff. He made a note to speak with Severus about it later.

"And your opinions on the others?"

Kurt bobbed his head. "Ms. Sprout is a leader in her field, and her advancements in that field are remarkable. Unfortunately, she does not have the international standing she should because, while similar, Herbology and Magical Botany are not analogous."

He paused. "Mr. Flitwick's reputation speaks for itself. He is surely one of the greatest Charms Masters in recent history, and his dueling experience is superior. I know that he has been courted by all four of the American schools several times, but has no interest in leaving Hogwarts."

Dumbledore was floored. This was certainly news to him! Dear Merlin, just how close had he come to losing one of his most valued instructors? This was most distressing.

"As for Mr. Snape," Kurt said, becoming noticeably reticent, "his research is impeccable and I would have a great interest in learning from him." He paused. "However, his reputation is also fairly well-known." He arched a brow. "You understand why this would give me pause."

Albus said nothing, though he silently agreed with the boy. Severus' attitude had frankly become more trouble than it was worth, and had alienated the majority of the students and all of the faculty. Granted, the man was a genius and a leader in his field, but he had no interest in teaching and it was apparent to everyone who encountered him. If Albus didn't so desperately require Severus' other skills, he most likely would have dismissed him long ago and set him up in private research.

He certainly couldn't allow the man to alienate the Potter twins. While he had some control over Harry's life, though not as much as many would presume, it was quite obvious that he would be unable to control Kurt, who could simply leave Hogwarts at his leisure.

"Are there other schools you are considering?" he asked the boy.

Kurt shrugged. "Not particularly. I've received acceptances to all of the American schools, as well as the those in Canada and Australia. I've also been invited to attend Beauxbatons, of which my mother was an alumna, and Durmstrang, as well as schools in Japan, Greece, Brazil, and New Zealand. But, as I explained, I have no real desire to attend any school whatsoever. I've done well with my tutoring and see no reason to change the course I've set for myself."

"What of your companions?" Albus pressed. "Would they not be interested in the chance to attend one of Europe's premier magical institutions?"

Kurt chuckled. "If anything, they would be a harder sell."

Albus couldn't fathom how this would be possible, given that Kurt was far from convinced. He thought about taking the matter up with Burt Hummel, but had a suspicion it would be pointless. Kurt obviously knew his own mind, and there was nothing to suggest that he was prey to his father's commands. Indeed, Albus wouldn't have been surprised if Kurt was allowed to do as he wished, given his independence and intelligence. Further, going behind the boy's back would only anger him unnecessarily.

"Might I arrange to speak with them?"

Kurt shrugged a shoulder. "Of course. They're here now. Is this a convenient time?"

Dumbledore gathered a breath and unleashed a blinding smile.

* * *

These children were unlike any Albus Dumbledore had ever encountered. He had no idea what to make of them, and he was fairly certain that all three couldn't have cared less what he thought. This was both a compelling and frustrating experience.

He was unused to dealing with children this age who were this competent, this knowledgeable about magic, and this unimpressed with the reputations of both himself and of Hogwarts. The blond girl had listened passively to his pitch, but exhibited not one shred of interest; the other had outright laughed when he extended their invitations to matriculate at his school.

"Might I ask what so amuses you about my offer?" he said stiffly to Santana Lopez, who merely smirked.

"Where shall I start?" the girl drawled. She then gave him a dazzling smile. "Perhaps with your limited course offerings? The percentage of your staff not in possession of a mastery in their chosen fields? The low number of graduates who pursue further education?"

Dumbledore gaped like a fish.

"How about the fact that the bird scores for your school are so pathetic, particularly in Potions and History, that they are routinely mocked on an international level?"

"That is not true!" Albus insisted.

"It is," Quinn said quietly. "You use the OWL system, correct?" At Dumbledore's nod, she continued. "The collective scores for the Potions and History exams are so low, they're anemic. They're not even recognized outside of Britain."

She raised a brow. "You have to know that the majority of magicals born to non-magical parents leave Britain upon their graduation. A great deal of them emigrate here, where they discover that they must participate in remedial tuition for those subjects if they wish to find worthwhile employment. It is an expense few of them can afford, but they find a way. They know nothing is waiting for them back home."

"And that's another thing," Santana interjected, rather hatefully, in Albus's opinion. "Britain's inane concept of blood status is anachronistic and pedantic. Even schools like Durmstrang acknowledge that magicals born to non-magicals can possess enormous power. They might not admit them, but they also do not dismiss them as inconsequential."

Dumbledore scowled at that direct hit.

"That is not to say that the Magical United States does not have its own problems," Quinn said diplomatically. "There is rampant racism, classism, homophobia, xenophobia, and religious strife. However, blood status is considered irrelevant, and though the voices of these other pockets of dissent are loud, they hold little power. Further, the MUS had instituted laws to protect different classes from discrimination and abuse. Your country has not."

"All of us have dealt with this on some level," Santana spat. "Me, because of the color of my skin; Quinn, because she's Christian; and Kurt, because he's gay. At least here we have some measure of recourse. Why the hell would we pull up stakes and spend seven years in a country that actively protests the right of a majority of their citizens to exist?" She shook her head. "No thanks."

This was a revelation for Dumbledore, who'd honestly had no idea that his country was so poorly regarded in the international magical community. Yes, he had known about the low test scores, but he had simply put them out of his mind, telling himself he'd address it at a later time, though that time had never come. As for the girls' arguments about prejudice in Britain, well, he could hardly refute them. They were a matter of public record, after all, and he was sure that Kurt's position as a youth ambassador had afforded him a fair bit of intelligence on the state of British wizarding politics.

It was time to approach this from a different angle, as he was getting nowhere with these children and losing ground fast.

"May I address your concerns one at a time?" he asked pleasantly.

"Of course," Quinn said smoothly.

Kurt nodded with polite disinterest.

Santana sneered. "Whatever."

Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but Albus was determined to persevere.

"Please explain your comments about course selection," he politely asked. "We offer the standard European curriculum, as well as a few other courses that those such as Beauxbatons do not."

Santana gave a grudging nod. "But you don't offer any truly advanced subjects," she argued. "Hogwarts starts every student off at the same level, which is inherently unfair because we both know that Purebloods get trained at home prior to their matriculation."

Albus nodded tightly, well aware of that fact.

"We understand that this is no way reflects upon you or your school," Quinn interjected. "You can hardly be expected to keep up with every student prior to their arrival at Hogwarts, nor would you be privy to what their parents or tutors have taught them. Still, it does place the students of non-magical parents at a distinct disadvantage."

Albus also conceded that point with another nod. Just as he was beginning to suspect that the girls were playing Good Auror-Bad Auror, Santana gave Quinn a furious scowl, which suggested to him they were not in cahoots with one another and perhaps argued frequently.

"Not the point," Santana hissed. "There are no courses offered in Enchanting, Rituals, Healing, Law, or Politics. There is nothing in the way of Offensive Spellcasting or Spellcrafting. There are no courses in art, language, literature, music, drama, or physical education. Alchemy is also not an option, which is pretty ridiculous, considering Dumbledore was trained under one of the greatest alchemists of all time."

Albus raised his brows. Apparently, the girl had either vetted him or knew a present or former student.

She glared at him, hands on her hips. "Kurt wants to be a Healer. Hogwarts offers nothing that would help him other than a basic education, a large amount of which he already has. I want to be an attorney, but your History program is a joke and not even applicable to me, as I won't be practicing in the United Kingdom, and you don't offer courses in Politics or Law."

Dumbledore suppressed a sigh, feeling rather old and useless. He could refute none of her arguments. Most students who went on to mastery programs or apprenticeships did experience some difficulty, given that their Hogwarts education, though relatively excellent, was so generalized. Further, Britain did not offer much in the way of mastery programs, and most apprenticeships were closed to Muggleborn students.

"And what of you, Miss Fabray?" he asked. "Have you yet decided which career you would like to pursue?"

"Finance," she replied. "I'm afraid that Arithmancy, the only mathematics program Hogwarts offers, won't be of much assistance to me, and Gringotts doesn't allow humans to apprentice as financial advisers."

"I think what most concerns us, Mr. Dumbledore," Kurt softly interrupted, "is that, as previously explained, we're not typical first year students. You couldn't place us in beginning classes. It not only wouldn't be fair to us, but it would skew the results of the others students."

"That is a fair point," Albus said, nodding. He paused. "Would you consider sitting placement exams?"

Quinn was mystified. "Why should we have to do that? Are our IMAGE scores insufficient?"

Dumbledore gawped, rather unattractively. "You have sat the for the IMAGEs?" he whispered.

The International Magical Aptitude General Exams were considered notoriously difficult and it was rare for British witches and wizard to take them. In fact, he could count on two hands the number who had: himself, Tom Riddle, Minerva McGonagall, Amelia Bones, Alastor Moody, Severus Snape, Lily Evans, Narcissa Black Malfoy, and Bill Weasley. Albus had tried and failed to convince Remus Lupin to sit for them, even offering to pay the entrance fee, but Remus had declined. Filius had never bothered, but would have triumphed had he the interest.

The exams were administered by the ETC, the Education and Training Commission, a subdivision of the ICW. Considering that the exams were voluntary, expensive, and that the Magical United States was not affiliated with the ICW, this finally cemented the idea that these children were ridiculously advanced and terribly serious about their academic endeavors. It was no longer a question of convincing them to attend Hogwarts, but what to do with them should they agree.

Albus honestly didn't know how to address the situation. He should probably discuss it with his colleagues.

Santana had had enough and decided to cut right to the chase. "Why do you want us there so badly? By that I mean what do you want with Kurt? Quinn and I are well aware that you're only courting us to guarantee Kurt's attendance. He's our best friend, so we know how special he is. What do _you_ want with him?"

Albus blinked, taking note of the blush spreading across Kurt's cheeks. These children were entirely too smart and sophisticated for his and their own good. Well, there was nothing for it except to answer their question.

Without really answering it, of course.

He sighed gently. "As I'm sure you're aware, Kurt was born in the United Kingdom, shortly before the fall of Voldemort."

Santana and Quinn nodded, the former rolling her eyes and making an impatient gesture for him to hurry along.

He cleared his throat. "I consider it not only my solemn duty but my great joy to see that the magical children of the United Kingdom receive a quality education."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Did you know my birth parents?"

Albus paused, unsure of how to answer the question, so he opted for prevarication. "It is entirely possible that I did, young man. Do you know their names?"

"No," Kurt lied.

"Alas," Dumbledore quietly replied. "I may have known them, Kurt," he said, pointedly _not_ lying outright, "but regardless, it is my responsibility to them, to you, and to my country to see that you receive the finest education possible."

Santana glared at this pompous declaration, Kurt seemed unconvinced, but Quinn appeared thoughtful.

Albus wondered if perhaps she was the one he should directly engage, the weak chink in their armor, so to speak.

"Maybe this is something we should consider," Quinn said slowly.

Santana appeared outraged.

"Please explain," Kurt said to Quinn.

Albus sat back in his immensely comfortable chair and smiled, hoping the young Fabray girl would make his case for him.

Santana, her back to Dumbledore, smirked at her friends, certain that Quinn was going to string the old man along and wring as many concessions out of him as possible.

Santana knew she herself would one day be an excellent attorney, but Quinn had an unparalleled ability to bullshit her way into getting whatever the hell she wanted. Santana didn't have that much patience, but she certainly admired Quinn for playing to her strengths.

Kurt's laughter echoed in her head.


	5. Negotiating

**Chapter Note**: I was asked in a number of reviews and private messages also to include Harry's introduction to the wizarding world. That honestly had not occurred to me, as I had been planning on keeping Harry's end of things rather close to canon. Then I thought, why bother? Why write something everyone's already read? Therefore, I'm throwing canon out the window and writing, to my mind, a more interesting version of Harry. More on this in the end notes. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Filius Flitwick was having a most peculiar day.

It had started out normally enough, with him entering the Great Hall at noon to share the midday meal with his colleagues. As Head of Ravenclaw House, Filius, along with Heads of House Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, and Pomona Sprout, was required to reside in Howarts year-round in order to keep the wards charged and active.

Filius had found since the death of his wife and son that he didn't much mind staying in the castle. He still retained a small cottage in the Welsh countryside, visiting when his workload permitted, but it was more a case of him being unwilling to relinquish the past than escaping the present. The cottage was where he had been a husband and a father. As he was no longer either of those things, the house had become more of museum than a refuge.

He liked Hogwarts. He enjoyed discovering rooms he hadn't known existed, even after his tenure of more than seventy years. Of course, he would never dare to presume that he was cognizant of all of the castle's secrets. Frankly, he hoped that day never came. He had lived a long and mostly happy life, and surprises were one of the few joys left to him.

Upon entering the Hall, he noted immediately that Albus was not present. This in itself was not terribly unusual, given the man's positions in the Wizengamot and ICW. Still, it was curious. Summers, after all, were usually lazy days, even for the faculty. Minerva and Severus had already tucked in, and Hagrid was looking particularly bright-eyed.

The other teachers were off enjoying their own holidays, save Sybill Trelawney, who, as usual, was sequestered in her tower. Filius clucked his tongue and shook his head. Such a strange woman. He, much like Minerva, didn't hold with Divination. It really was so much nonsense in his opinion, and he frankly pitied those who took stock in such fanciful notions.

"Good afternoon, everyone," he said cheerfully.

Minerva indulged him with a rare smile, Severus grunted, and Hagrid happily boomed a salutation.

Filius liked Hagrid a great deal. The man was almost as cheerful as Filius himself, and it was almost unheard of for Hagrid to have an unkind word about anyone. He supposed their accord might be based somewhat on the fact that they were both considered half-breeds by British magical society; Hagrid being a half-giant and Filius being a quarter Goblin.

Severus...well, Filius considered him a genius, but not a colleague. Severus was a very poor teacher who actively despised his position and took out his frustration on the students. Filius, however, despite having been employed at Hogwarts for over three generations, well knew the limits of his power. He had long ago realized that nothing he said would move Albus on the matter of Severus Snape.

Therefore, Filius had taken it upon himself to pull Severus aside ten years ago to warn him that should his cruel tongue ever be unleashed upon a Ravenclaw student, Severus would be meeting the end of his wand. Severus Snape was many things, but a fool was not amongst them.

Filius was closest to Minerva, and though he considered her an intellectual peer and a fearsome witch, their relationship was not particularly deep. It was cordial and respectful, however, and they had both decided to let that be enough.

He repressed a sigh. He admired Minerva, but thought her almost slavish devotion to Dumbledore highly ridiculous and beneath her. He respected Albus's ability, but held no illusions as to the man's character. Albus Dumbledore was, at the end of the day, a benevolent despot. He also found Minerva's willingness to rise constantly to Severus's baiting a tad unseemly.

As he took his seat and perused the morning's offerings, he banished such thoughts from his mind, learning long ago that happiness was a choice, one which people were often not strong enough to make. He had survived the scorn heaped on him a child, three wars, and the deaths of his entire family, yet he still chose to be happy. He refused to allow the petty problems of others to dim that resolve.

"You appear to be especially excited today, Hagrid," he noted.

Hagrid beamed. "The Headmaster has asked me to deliver Harry Potter's letter and show him around Diagon Alley this afternoon!"

Severus snorted, which in turn caused Minerva to scowl and mutter epithets under her breath.

Filius correctly surmised that Albus must be playing one of his little games, sending Hagrid out in to the Muggle world to introduce such a prominent student to magical Britain. He had no idea what Dumbledore was planning, but he was sure it was probably stupid. He said nothing, though he quietly seethed, wondering what on earth Lily would think of all this.

Filius helped himself to several of the dishes and serenely ate his lunch as Minerva and Severus predictably launched a witless battle of scathing attacks on James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. The name of Lily Evans went noticeably unmentioned, for which Filius was grateful; otherwise, he would have had to take steps.

His eyes became misty as he thought of his favorite student. He had never told her, but Filius had come to regard the girl as his own daughter. He had been devastated by her death, and the story Dumbledore had told him about young Harry vanquishing the Dark Lord had never sat well with him. No, there was something else, something that Dumbledore either didn't know or refused to share. It was most likely the latter.

Filius resolved to keep an eye on Harry when the lad finally arrived at Hogwarts. The boy would probably be sorted into Gryffindor like his parents, and though Filius was aware that Minerva took quite seriously the charge of her students, she was also very stern and rigid. That certainly had its place, of course, particularly in a boarding school where children needed discipline, especially as many had never before been away from home for any length of time. Still, the younger students often needed comfort and understanding, which, for whatever reason, Minerva was either unwilling or unable to provide.

Further, he was sure that Severus would attempt to make the boy's life a living hell. Dumbledore would deal with it as he did most problems: by ignoring it. Minerva would huff and puff, but would not interfere at Dumbledore's insistence. The rest of the staff, bar a few, would follow her lead. Filius, however, was not about to sit by idly and allow Severus a free rein over the child of his greatest enemy.

Albus had his allies and acolytes amongst the staff, but Filius had his compatriots, as well. He would have to remember to take Poppy and Pomona aside and ask them to watch out for Harry - discreetly, of course, lest they arouse the suspicion of Dumbledore. Filius himself wasn't particularly concerned about Dumbledore's feelings, so he would look after Harry as he saw fit. If, for whatever reason, however, Harry was sorted into Ravenclaw, then Albus was in for a very rude awakening.

As he laid his spoon next to his empty soup bowl, Filius was startled from his thoughts by the appearance of Fawkes, who flamed into the room and trilled happily. Minerva blinked, Severus growled, and Hagrid applauded. Filius merely raised a brow.

Said brow arched even higher when Fawkes dived at him, circled about his head, and then landed in the soup bowl, a parchment clutched in his maw.

"For me?" Filius asked.

Fawkes dropped the missive, honked, and disappeared.

"Ridiculous creature," Severus grunted.

Hagrid, of course, was extremely affronted and began spewing facts about the majesty of phoenixes while bleating about what a great man Dumbledore was.

Severus rolled his eyes, Filius not far behind him. Minerva simply sipped her tea.

"And what does Albus wish of you?" she prompted.

Filius hummed and unfurled the letter, scanning it quickly and wondering what the hell the old man was playing at this time. He rolled it back up, stowed it in the inside pocket of his blazer, and furrowed his brow.

"Albus has asked me to take young Harry to Diagon Alley," he said slowly. He turned to Hagrid. "I'm sorry, Hagrid, but Albus is concerned that Harry will have more questions than for which you will have answers."

Hagrid sagged with disappointment, but at last nodded. Truly, he really hadn't understood why Dumbledore had asked him in the first place. He had known James and Lily, but not terribly well; certainly not as well as Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall. He also thought the change in plans made sense. Hagrid well knew that his experiences in the wizarding world were not comparable to what Harry would encounter. Further, as Hagrid had never graduated from Hogwarts, he was not a particularly suitable representative for the school, especially not for a new student.

Minerva quickly threw up a privacy charm to cover her and Filius. Severus surreptitiously dispelled it while throwing an obfuscation charm in Hagrid's direction.

"When you get there," Minerva gravely began, "please be careful to examine Mr. Potter's living conditions thoroughly." Her lips tightened so severely that they all but disappeared. She shook her head in consternation. "I told Albus not to leave the boy there. I warned him about how horrid those Muggles were."

Filius barely refrained from rolling his eyes. So, once again, Minerva had been privy to a Dumbledore debacle she knew to be a poor decision. Once again, she had argued against it, but had allowed him to check her backbone. Now, ten years later, when the result was coming home to roost, she was filled with unrighteous indignation and feeling morally superior.

He merely nodded. "Of course." He paused. "Would you happen to know the relatives with whom Mr. Potter has been staying? Albus would never disclose that information to me."

Minerva silently debated whether or not to tell him, which was ridiculous, considering Filius had the address in hand, but at last relented. "Mr. Potter lives with Lily's sister, Petunia Dursley, and her family."

Which directly went against the Potters' wishes for their son's guardianship, which had been clearly outlined in their will, to which Filius had been a witness. So had Albus, which was why he had never told Filius of the boy's placement, knowing Filius would have fought him on it and won.

Well, this simply wouldn't do. Filius knew from his own conversations with Lily that Petunia was a bitter, vengeful shrew of a woman who detested all things magical. He would be sure to go over that house with a wary eye. Of course, this raised the question as to the whereabouts of the will and why it had never been probated. He would have Harry make an inquiry with the goblins.

Severus had nearly bent his fork in half, he had gripped it so tightly. Dumbledore had never told him that the Potter brat had been put with Petunia, merely that he was safe with some relatives in the Muggle world. Of course, Severus should have immediately made the connection to Petunia, but never had. He certainly wondered about that now. He would have to scan his Occlumency shields later, and rather deeply, looking for modifications not of his own making.

This...changed things. He didn't particularly like change, and liked even less having to reconsider his firmly held opinions. However, it might be necessary. He knew Petunia's character very well and could imagine what she had done to a magical child placed directly under her thumb. He didn't like the implications, but would wonder no more about it until Filius made his report.

He trusted Filius, who shared his opinion on what an incomparable witch Lily Evans had been; further, he had never never blinded by the smarmy charm of the Marauders. Therefore, if Filius found Potter's situation to be banal, Severus would continue as planned to make the boy's life miserable. If, however, things were as bad as he was beginning to expect they might be, revisions would be in order. He might even be able to use Filius as a middleman, thus ensuring his own hands stayed clean.

Regardless of his personal feelings, he had that miserable life debt to take into account, as well as his promise to Lily. Neither of those had anything to do with Albus sodding Dumbledore, though Severus certainly wouldn't put it past the man to abuse them for his own plans.

"I'm rather surprised Albus didn't make the trip himself," Filius casually remarked.

Minerva rolled her eyes. "He's off trying to recruit a potential student," she replied, scoffing. "An _American_, if you can believe that."

Severus cocked a brow and removed the charm from Hagrid, who was beginning to get suspicious. "Since when do we accept international students?"

"The child was born in the United Kingdom," Minerva said, "but was orphaned during the war. He was adopted by an American couple, though his name has been down on the roster since his birth. I believe Albus has some grand notion about ensuring the boy isn't denied his heritage."

Something about that statement set off an alarm with Filius's mind. He didn't have the time to process it, but would unpack it later.

Severus merely snorted, sure there was something more behind Albus's American venture, but knowing he wouldn't be told unless absolutely necessary. Dumbledore really was a most infuriating man and, not for the first time, Severus wondered if he would have been better off not surrendering himself to Dumbledore, but instead simply fleeing the country.

"Well," Filius sighed, rising to his feet, "I suppose I should be off. There is a Head of House meeting tonight, correct?"

Minerva nodded. "I'm sure we can all guess as to the agenda."

Severus gave another disgusted snort.

"Still searching for that truffle, Severus?" Minerva drawled.

Filius burst out laughing and made his exit.

* * *

Privet Drive was quite possibly the most bland and pedestrian street in the entire free world.

Filius had never seen anything like it, and, unlike most of his colleagues, he was no stranger to British Muggle society. One good, simple glamour charm and he fit in with the best of them. It was his forte, after all, and he had never understood those witches and wizards who made no effort when venturing out into the unknown but then complained loudly when said sojourns were a bust.

He really did despise laziness. Unfortunately, magic had made very many people, some of whom were actually quite sensible, incredibly lazy, and everyone knew laziness led to idiocy.

Every house on the street looked exactly the same: the same design, the same allotment of yard, even the same colors. Filius was bored just from standing there. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like to live in one of the dwellings.

He imagined he probably would have killed himself.

He shook his head and looked again the letter, frowning in consternation.

"Reply by owl, indeed," he scoffed. How, exactly, was Harry to do that? Even if he did know of the magical world, it wasn't likely he had access to an owl, and while Filius was sure Petunia well remembered the delivery of Lily's letter, she had been a child, then. She probably knew what owl post was, but couldn't access it, so to speak.

Really, what the hell was Dumbledore playing at?

As he slowly approached the house, Filius became even more entrenched in his thoughts. He felt the traces of very old magic. Not old just in terms of simple linear time, but spellwork that was ancient in its construction and purpose.

His eyes widened.

Blood magic.

It reeked of Albus, which was problematic for several reasons. The first was that blood magic itself had been outlawed over two centuries ago, having been deemed as dark by a rather provincial ministry administration. Fiddle-faddle, naturally. Blood magic was in no way dark, as long as it was used for its intended purposes. It _could_ be construed as dark, much in the same way a simple levitation charm could be considered dark in that it could be used to toss someone from a cliff.

The second problem was, while there was no doubt that Albus was indeed a genius and an incredibly powerful wizard, at his core he was a dilettante. He had masteries in Potions and Transfiguration and had apprenticed with Flamel, yes, but all of his knowledge of magical esoterica was merely the result of dabbling. He knew a little bit about a great many things, but Albus's true gift was self-promotion.

If Albus Dumbledore was skilled in blood magic, and thereby rituals and invocations, all of which were subsets of advanced and specialized charms work, Filius would gladly eat the Sorting Hat. Fennel would be necessary.

So, what Filius had so far determined was thus: Albus had performed illegal magic in or around Harry Potter's house, and had probably bungled it in some very rudimentary way. This, of course, could only have led to even further asinine mistakes. Still, Filius could admit, if only to himself, that he was desperately curious to see the results of Albus's handiwork.

Well, he supposed there was nothing for it but to walk up to the door and ring the bell. He braced himself for the encounter even as he recalled everything Lily had ever mentioned of her sister. He therefore knew to be polite, as Petunia reveled in social niceties, though she herself didn't feel it necessary for her to exhibit them; firm, as the woman was utterly intractable; and, if all else failed, he should prey on her fear of magic.

Contrary to what many might have believed, such action was not beneath him.

Reinforcing his glamour, he rang the bell.

"Boy!"

Filius startled at the unholy screech.

"Get the door!"

A few seconds later, said door quietly opened, and he was met by a pair of hauntingly beautiful and familiar green eyes which peeked out at him from behind it. Filius, however, had never before associated such timidity and hopelessness with those eyes.

He actually felt his heart break.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Filius had barely refrained from committing multiple homicide. The only reason he hadn't indulged was because he was afraid of further traumatizing young Harry. Instead, he compiled facts.

First, Harry Potter had no idea that magic existed. In fact, he had been repeatedly told that it did not, and whenever Harry himself had performed accidental magic, he had been punished severely.

Second, Harry Potter had no idea that his parents had been murdered by an insane individual with delusions of grandeur. Instead, he had been informed that his parents had been hopeless alcoholics who had perished in an automobile accident of their own creation, that they hadn't loved or wanted him enough to remain alive to care for him.

Third, Harry Potter had spent his entire tenure at the Dursley house living in _a cupboard under the stairs_. It wasn't even until he had made that discovery that Filius had examined the envelope which held Harry's letter. He felt inordinately stupid, inadequate, and ashamed. He also couldn't wait to rub it in Minerva's face. As the one who oversaw the process of the addressing of the letters, he was sure that she would feel just as guilty as he, and he was in the mood to spread the pain around.

Fourth, Harry Potter was terrified of his uncle. It was apparent from the way Harry constantly sought to remove himself from Vernon Dursley's reach; how he would wince whenever Dursley raised his voice, which appeared to be a constant endeavor; and how he would pale while Dursley would simultaneously turn a violent magenta. Harry exhibited some measure of bravado where his uncle was concerned, but Filius was sure it was feigned.

This made him consider things he would really rather not consider, but which he nevertheless was sure were true. There would be a reckoning for this, but not until Harry was safely out from under his family's clutches.

So Filius had offered his little spiel: magic was real, Harry was a wizard, his parents had been magical and had been killed in a magical war, and now Harry was to go to Hogwarts.

He watched with undisguised interest as Harry absorbed this information. He watched as Harry reconciled past events with what he now knew to be true. And he did know it, which was shocking in and of itself. Never once had Harry denied he was a wizard, that magic couldn't possibly exist, or the host of other protests Minerva had related that Muggleborn children had expressed over the years.

Interesting.

On some level, then, Harry had to have known that there was more, more to the world and more to himself.

Oh, there was anger, of course, aimed primarily at the Dursleys, but Harry held his emotions tightly to him, which honestly concerned Filius. It wasn't natural for an eleven year old child to have such control of himself, to shut down so completely and offer nothing to the world but a blank mask. This wasn't inherent behavior; it had been bred into him, and Filius was quite sure how that had come to pass.

Therefore, the most important thing was to get Harry out of this house, never to return. It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever was. He had no illusions that Dumbledore would fight him on this; for whatever reason, he wanted Harry here, but that meant little to Filius. It was obvious Dumbledore had neglected Harry, never once checking in with or up on the lad, which was completely inexcusable.

Thank Merlin Dumbledore was presently out of the country. That offered a window, small though it was, for Filius to take action.

And he would be taking action.

Visits to St. Mungo's and the Ministry were definitely in order, particularly a meeting with Amelia Bones. That Harry had been placed with the Dursleys at all meant that Dumbledore had, as Filius suspected, purposefully violated the Potter will, to which both had been witness. Filius had heard no more about the document after he had signed his name, which was highly irregular. Obviously, it never had been probated. The question was why the other beneficiaries hadn't protested.

So where was it?

The goblins should have a copy on file, and Harry would need money to purchase his school supplies and to see him through the year, so the first stop would have to be Gringotts. Filius planned on utilizing every contact he had within that bank and had no qualms about preying on the goblins' dislike of Dumbledore.

He quickly cast a series of charms, so quickly that they went unnoticed by everyone but Harry, who was watching with keen interest. The cupboard under the stairs was sealed until it could be thoroughly examined. The Dursleys were made not to discuss it with anyone unless Filius himself was present. Another charm told him that the blood magic he had earlier sensed was a series of wards tied to Harry himself, powered by his own magic, which was absolutely appalling.

He knew of only one type of blood ward that would be anchored in such a way, as well as how to get rid of it.

He turned to Harry and smiled.

"Harry, do you consider this house to be your home?" he asked pleasantly.

Harry gave him an incredulous look but shook his head. "This has never been, and will never be, my home. It's merely where I live."

Filius beamed as Petunia Dursley gasped and the wards irrevocably fell. He quickly cast anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards, as well as the standard fire and flood prevention wards, around the perimeter. After all, he didn't want the Dursleys to die. He much preferred them to suffer, and he would see to it that they did.

"Come along, then, Harry. There's much to do."

* * *

Closing the front door behind him, his meager possessions packed into a suitcase which Professor Flitwick had hastily conjured for him, Harry looked at the man expectantly.

"Let us hurry to the next street over," Filius said. "Wisteria Walk, I believe it was called."

Harry nodded. "I wonder if I should say goodbye to Mrs. Figg."

Filius raised a brow and Harry hurriedly explained about the elderly woman who took care of him when the Dursleys were particularly taxed by his presence, which had been often.

Arabella Figg, Filius realized, obviously placed as a Dumbledore spy. He was of two minds about this particular revelation. Either Figg was delusional, which was certainly quite possible, or she had been reporting to Albus about Harry's treatment for almost ten years and he had done nothing about it. Either option was galling, and he planned to look into it further.

"I think that can wait," he said. "You could always send her a letter."

Harry nodded slowly, suspicion now shining in his eyes. "Why do you look like this? It's not real, is it?"

Filius was impressed. Most witches and wizards he knew couldn't see through glamours, and certainly not at the level with which his had been cast. Of course, he wasn't sure whether Harry could see through the glamour, but the boy definitely knew one was being employed. Oh, Harry was truly his mother's son.

Lily. Dear Lily, whom he had failed very badly. Well, time to put an end to that immediately.

He nodded. "You are correct, Mr. Potter. I am wearing what is called a glamour, a spell, specifically a charm, which alters my appearance so that I am more easily able to fit in to the Muggle world."

What was most surprising was that Harry didn't question this, but merely nodded. He didn't ask why this should be necessary, nor did he press Filius to remove the glamour and present himself truthfully. He just accepted the explanation.

This was somewhat bewildering. Either Harry was far more intelligent and cunning than the average eleven year old, or he was extremely gullible and willing to believe whatever was fed to him. Filius could only pray it was the former.

As they walked, Filius quickly explained the three primary methods of magical transport: the Floo system, portkeys, and Apparation. He was amused when Harry denounced as mental the idea of jumping in and out of fireplaces, declared his interest in portkeys and how they operated, and likened Apparation to teleportation.

Filius made sure to impart to Harry that magical transport was dangerous if the witch or wizard was not familiar with the concept, that a clear destination must always be at the front of the mind, and that Apparation, while extremely helpful, was distinctly uncomfortable. He explained that portkeys could be made out of absolutely anything, and therefore it was important not to touch things with which he was unfamiliar. Also, should someone ever throw something at him, Harry would do well to repress his instinct to catch it, instead ducking out of the way.

He watched as Harry nodded, seemingly filing this information away in his brain. He rather suspected that Harry would be the type of student who took few notes. He was aural, not visual. Harry listened keenly to the words spoken to him, and while he might have had questions, he didn't ask them. This concerned Filius, who believed Harry had been specifically taught _not _to ask questions. He'd have to do something about that.

"So we're going to Apparate?" Harry prompted.

Filius nodded. "Correct. We are going to Apparate into Diagon Alley, the primary wizarding settlement in London. Normally, Diagon Alley is accessed via a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, but you and I are going to Apparate straight to Gringotts Bank."

"Why there, sir?"

Ah, a question! Filius beamed.

"We need to access your accounts, Mr. Potter," he said. "You will need magical currency to procure your school supplies and uniforms."

Harry's eyes widened. "Accounts? Uniforms?"

Filius hesitated before dismissing the idea of discussing finances. He really had no idea as to Harry's accounts, only that they should exist, so instead pondered the other question. He knew that many Muggleborn children, while not necessarily averse to uniforms, did not like the idea of robes.

"I get my own clothes?" Harry whispered, brow furrowed as though he couldn't possibly imagine such a situation.

Filius blinked. His own clothes? He looked over the outfit Harry was currently wearing. He had allowed himself to believe they were simply clothes in which Harry performed chores. Now, however, he realized the boy was always made to dress like this, and the clothes were obviously not his but probably passed down from his rotund cousin.

He was infuriated at himself. Here he was, trying to do his best by Mr. Potter, and he was falling into the trap in which so many others were sure to be prey. Those clothes were ridiculous and offensive, but he had ignored them instinctively because he had known, on some level, what they indicated about Harry's treatment.

He wondered how many other people, sensible people, had taken one look at Harry Potter and known on a fundamental level that they boy was being neglected, if not outright abused. They had done nothing, however, because they hadn't wanted to get involved. They hadn't wanted to believe that people who could treat innocent children in such a manner actually existed in their world. Instead, they had banished the idea from their minds, dismissing Harry from their thoughts.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and resolved then and there to take his time with Harry, to look beyond the superficial and not allow his discomfort get the best of him. He owed Lily at least that much.

His lips thinned. Own clothes! The boy had never been given his own clothes! He might as well have been a house elf!

He forced a smile. "Yes, Mr. Potter, your own clothes."

"But how will I pay for them, sir?" Harry asked softly, eyes turning down in embarrassment, his blush severe. "I haven't any money."

Filius gently patted him on the shoulder, repressing a wince when Harry automatically tried to duck out of the way.

"I knew your parents, Harry," he said quietly, "and I was especially close with your mother."

Harry's eyed widened with guarded hope.

"They did indeed provide for you," he continued. "The Dursleys were most likely ignorant of this because, first, they wouldn't have been able to use wizarding currency and, second, they most likely would not have spent the money on you. It certainly looks like they didn't spend much."

Harry scoffed and then thought better of it, blushing. "They didn't spend anything on me, sir," he admitted. "I've never had my own clothes, and my glasses are from a donation bin. Thankfully, the school provided my books."

It took all of Filius's self-control not to march right back to Privet Drive and hex those people into oblivion. Instead, he nodded tightly.

"Then we will be adding a few stops on our trip," he said with forced joviality. "You will need clothes, your books, and definitely a new pair of glasses." He tilted his head. "Can you even see with those things on your face, Harry?"

The boy's silence spoke for itself. His obvious embarrassment suggested he blamed himself for his lot, which was not Filius's intention at all, but it spoke to the boy's character. It was at the moment he decided that, regardless of what House in which Harry was placed, he would take the boy under his wing. He would not allow Harry Potter to be anyone's martyr.

"Before we enter the wizarding world, Harry, there are a few things you need to know."

* * *

Harry was still reeling from Professor Flitwick's concise but thorough explanation of Voldemort and his vanquishing when they appeared outside the bank.

Frankly, Harry had never heard of anything so ridiculous in his life, didn't believe most of it, and said as much to Flitwick.

"It doesn't make sense, sir," he had insisted. "How could anyone think a toddler defeated a homicidal maniac? Obviously, one of my parents, or both of them, performed a spell to protect me."

Filius thought about that and at last nodded. It made the most sense, after all, and he wouldn't have put it past Lily to have rediscovered and performed some obscure charm to protect her child. The woman had been absolutely brilliant and had always been fascinated with ancient magic, spells which had either been banned by the Ministry or had simply fallen out of use.

"Perhaps so, Mr. Potter," Filius had said.

"You said we were going to the bank, sir," Harry had then said. "Is there any particular manner in which I should conduct myself?"

Filius had been delighted by the question and nodded enthusiastically. "Very astute, Mr. Potter! Gringotts Bank is run by goblins, a sentient species with a very long and proud history in the magical world."

He had paused. "They do not like humans. They tolerate us because they depend on us for their livelihood, but are otherwise unimpressed, and for good reason. We require wands to perform magic, while they are not so hindered. That is not to say they are any more or less powerful than us, only that their magic is different."

Harry had nodded and Filius knew the boy was listening closely and would heed his words.

"They are not intimidated by us, and resent humans as a whole for enjoying status and privileges not afforded to them by the government."

He had repressed a chuckle at Harry's disdain. He imagined Harry shared much in common with the goblin worldview.

"So," Filius then continued, "the most important thing to remember is the goblin society revolves around gold. I presume you've heard the axiom _time is money_?" At Harry's nod, he nodded in kind. "For the goblins this is a way of life. Wasting time is akin to wasting money, which, to them, is a truly odious thought.

"Be respectful," he had finally added, "but don't simper. Be firm, always. Also, you must remember that while goblins don't give a fig about humans, they care very much about money, of which you have a lot. The Potters are one of the oldest magical lines in Britain, and over the centuries, they accumulated a lot of wealth, all of which now falls to you. Therefore, the goblins will most likely be inclined to be more civil toward you than they would others, but by no means will they be cordial."

Harry had nodded again, grim determination set on his face.

Filius had been rather alarmed at Harry's lack of reaction to his newfound wealth. Of course, as Harry had been raised with extreme frugality, it was quite likely he understood the value of money more than other children his age. Either that, or he was truly uncaring.

Lily had been much the same. She had been raised in comfortable surroundings in the Muggle world, but when she had married James, she had experienced a sudden influx of tremendous wealth, though it hadn't changed her. She hadn't cared one whit for the Potter money.

Now, Filius could all but see the wheels spinning in Harry's mind and wondered desperately as to what the lad was thinking. He wouldn't ask, of course, until Harry first asked a question.

This should prove interesting.

* * *

Harry was naturally intimidated by the goblins, but had been exposed to far worse. He was sure the goblins were probably the bloodthirsty killers they appeared to be, but as long as behaved himself, he wasn't anticipating any problems. He had learned long ago to blend in to his surroundings and adjust himself to unfamiliar circumstances. Professor Flitwick had also given him a crash course in goblin greetings, and Harry had paid close attention.

Regardless, he stood closer to the professor then he had outside of the bank.

Finally it was their turn at the head of the line. Harry strode toward the counter carefully, but with conviction. He glanced at the nametag of the teller and then met the goblin's eyes.

"Good afternoon, Teller Ironmaw," he said softly but clearly. "My name is Harry Potter. I would like to speak with the honorable goblin who oversees my accounts, please."

Ironmaw peered speculatively at the boy before his eyes drifted up the scar marring his forehead. He noted that the child grimaced slightly at the action but held his tongue. How interesting. Potter either understood or had been made aware of his fame, but had no love for it. He was also cognizant of the boy's attempt not to draw attention to himself.

"Well met, Mr. Potter," he said quietly. "Your vault key, please."

Harry looked helplessly at Filius, who silently withdrew the key from his pocket and laid it on the counter. Ironmaw was surprised he hadn't earlier noticed his cousin and nodded in greeting.

"Filius," he intoned. "I was unaware escorting students was one of your duties."

There was a slight sneer in his tone which Filius chose to ignore. He was recognized by the goblins as one of them, but was still considered separate from the nation as a whole due to his mixed heritage. They respected his abilities, but deplored that he was willingly employed by wizards.

He repressed a sigh. The goblins had never understood that his allegiance was to Hogwarts and her students, not Dumbledore or any other wizard or witch.

"Ironmaw," he said crisply. "As I'm sure you'll later be more thoroughly informed, Mr. Potter's case is unique. Until this afternoon, he had no idea that he was magical. He had been told that Lord and Lady Potter had perished by Muggle means and had not provided for him."

Filius had no compunction about manipulating the conversation in Harry's favor. Indeed, the fact that Harry had been kept ignorant of his accounts would be considered an affront to the goblin nation, lest be thought of as in any way contributing to such financial malfeasance.

Ironmaw's eyes widened before narrowing. He turned toward the Potter heir, who was mouthing _Lord and Lady_ as though he had no idea of the positions his parents had held.

This was unacceptable. It was true enough that goblins, as a whole, decried the wizards and witches of Britain, predominantly for their superior and supercilious attitudes toward anyone or anything considered _Other_. However, prior to the establishment of the Wizengamot, the goblins had enjoyed mutually beneficial alliances with a few of the First Families, which were later renamed by the Ministry as Ancient and Most Noble.

The Potters were one such family and peculiar in their conviction for advocating the right of other magical species to be regarded as sentient. Generations of Potters had declared their allegiance to the goblin nation during various goblin rebellions. Over the centuries, that alliance had degraded somewhat as the constraints of alleged civilized society narrowed. The Wizengamot now enjoyed more power than ever, and while the Potters had always voted their seat to the benefit of the goblin nation, they had been forced to do so within the little power afforded to them.

Regardless, the Potter name still enjoyed some measure of courtesy within the goblin nation. That its heir had been purposefully kept ignorant of his holdings was noxious.

There was also the simple fact that while the Potter accounts were substantial, they had languished in obscurity for the past decade, as there was no one to direct them. This meant a great loss of profit to both the family and Gringotts itself.

Nothing was more atrocious to a goblin than the deliberate act of financial sabotage.

"I see," Ironmaw said slowly. "In that case, I determine it best if you speak with Fistlock regarding your accounts, Mr. Potter." He nodded at a goblin overseeing the lines, who rushed toward him. "Griphook, please escort Mr. Potter and Master Flitwick to Fistlock's office."

Griphook blinked and nodded, waving an arm. "This way," he said, with a wave of his arm, to the two mentioned.

Filius nodded and made to follow, but stopped when Harry turned to Ironmaw.

"Thank you for time, sir. I appreciate your courtesy and attention."

Ironmaw merely nodded and averted his eyes, which then followed the child as he trailed after Griphook and Flitwick.

He shook his head slightly. If the scar and that ridiculous mop of hair hadn't convinced him the boy was a Potter, the simple common decency certainly had.

* * *

Fistlock was in a quandary.

After ordering a nameless underling to fetch him the appropriate records and asking the young Potter some vague questions, he came to the realization that he was sitting on an explosive secret.

Harry Potter was not the Potter heir, as so many believed. He was a Potter, yes; a simple blood ritual had seen to that. Fistlock had been quietly impressed that Potter hadn't even flinched when the sample had been taken, but noted that Filius had been bewildered. A few muttered words in Ghukliak, the goblin language which wizards had mistakenly and insultingly termed Gobbledygook, had cleared that up.

Fistlock had been appalled by Filius's insinuation, though his face remained untroubled. Goblins outnumbered wizards and witches by almost twenty-to-one, but they mated for life and often had only one offspring. It was not uncommon for numerous goblin couples to remain childless. Fistlock himself, while happily married, had never been blessed with a child, though he had adopted his fourth brother's son after an unfortunate accident.

The abuse of a child, no matter its origin, was a sacrilege.

He repressed a sigh and shook his head, refocusing on matters at hand.

As it was Harry Potter's twin brother who was the designated heir, there were limits as to what information Fistlock could reveal. He wasn't permitted to read aloud or probate the Potter will, as now only the missing brother could initiate such action. Still, he would be investigating why the will hadn't been released upon the deaths of Lily and James Potter, especially as it named guardians for their children. It was also expressly stated that, under no circumstances, were the twins to be raised in a Muggle home, specifically the Dursley home.

It was apparent that neither Harry Potter nor Filius Flitwick was aware of the existence of Liam Potter, who, as of today, would be regarded as his Head of House. He made no mention of the elder Potter because he had no further information on the child and was not about to expose the bank to the threat of a lawsuit. If Liam Potter did not claim his heritage by the time he reached his majority at seventeen years of age, the holdings in their entirety would revert to Harry Potter.

He could only therefore acknowledge that Harry Potter was in possession of one vault in his name, designed to see him quite comfortably through his seven years of education at Hogwarts, as well a mastery, should he desire to pursue one.

He observed that Flitwick was most unsatisfied with this information, which made sense, given that he had been a witness to the will, but as Flitwick made no mention of the missing twin, neither did Fistlock.

Fistlock was quite grateful that the young Potter launched into a series of questions, distracting Flitwick from the interrogation the man obviously wanted to conduct.

"Professor," Harry began, "what is the tuition rate at Hogwarts per annum?"

Filius supplied the information.

"And what is that in pounds?" Harry then asked, shocked when given the answer. "That's three times more than Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are paying for Dudley to attend Smeltings," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Fistlock watched with approval as the boy began running numbers in his head.

"And I am required to pay for my own books and uniforms?" Harry pressed.

Filius nodded.

Harry frowned. "What about inflation? Does the tuition increase accordingly depending on the potency of the economy or how taxed the resources of the school come to be?"

Filius blinked. "No, Mr. Potter. When a student matriculates at Hogwarts, their tuition rate is locked and remains frozen for the rest of their career."

Harry arched a brow. "I presume this is available in writing?"

Fistlock snorted in amusement. "It is. It is detailed in the Hogwarts charter. When the school first opened, the economy was unstable and family fortunes could be lost or gained in the space of a fortnight. The Founders ensured that those families in such precarious situations could ensure the education of their children."

Harry nodded. "Where can I find a copy of this charter? Is it available in the bookstore we passed on the way in?"

Fistlock was having far too much fun. "Unfortunately not. Over the centuries, the need for the charter was reduced and it became much more difficult to obtain copies. They were never reprinted. Those in existence have been passed down over generations and are zealously guarded."

Harry thought that was ridiculous and said as much. He was paying for the privilege to attend this institution, but it didn't see fit to provide him with the materials by which said institution was governed?

Filius silently agreed with him on that score.

"It is entirely possible a copy of the charter can be located in your vault," Fistlock interjected. "If it is not, Gringotts would be pleased to provide you with one."

"For a fee, I presume?" Harry asked.

"A nominal one, yes."

"And what qualifies as nominal?"

"Five galleons."

Harry nodded. "I would like to arrange a copy from you, then, sir. Even if there is one in my vault, you can never be too prepared."

Fistlock nodded and made a note.

"I would like a copy myself," Filius said quietly. He had been an educator at Hogwarts for fifty years and had never laid eyes on the charter. There wasn't even a copy in the library.

Fistlock nodded. "Of course."

Harry was stunned at the professor's request, as it set off all kinds of alarms in his mind, though he hid it well. What kind of school had a charter which even teachers couldn't access?

Having already determined the ratio of pounds to galleons, Harry nodded thoughtfully and shifted the topic of conversation. "Is there any sort of rebate or incentive afforded to those students who prepay all seven years?"

Filius stared at him blankly before turning to look at Fistlock, who smirked.

"Indeed there is, Mr. Potter," he said, inclining his head. "If I might ask, why are you so concerned?"

"What is your rate of compound interest?" Harry shot back.

Fistlock laughed. "An excellent question! Many people fail to ask."

"Then they deserve a lower rate," Harry said simply, shrugging.

Fistlock appreciated this boy. He didn't like him, but respected his mind, at least where finances were concerned.

"To answer your question, Mr. Fistlock, as I see it, I have a certain amount of money to see me through the next seven years. No matter how fair your interest rate, I will be spending more than I have coming in, so I intend to wrangle for myself the best possible deal. I don't want to finish school and have nothing to show for my efforts. My parents loved me enough to see to my care. I will not dishonor their memory by wasting their legacy."

Fistlock's smirk became fierce.

"That incentive?" Harry prompted.

Filius gave up trying to play the middleman in this scenario. It was obvious Harry could handle himself just fine. Raised in comfortable surroundings, none of that money had trickled down to him, but he obviously must have paid attention to the financial affairs of his relatives. If they had taught him nothing else, they had taught him how to pinch a knut for all it was worth.

Harry and Fistlock then entered fiery negotiations. After explaining to the boy that the tuition rate was decreased by five percent for every year that was prepaid, Harry authorized the transfer of the appropriate funds from his account to the Hogwarts coffers.

Harry then asked what types of accounts Gringotts offered clients, the protections each was afforded, and wanted to know if his current account was best suited to his needs. Fistlock assured him that a trust vault was absolutely safe from the ups and downs of the market and, though the interest rate was lower than that of the more high-risk options, it was more than satisfactory.

Harry asked about mobile banking options, such as personal checks and debit cards. Fistlock had no idea what a debit card was, but resolved to find out. He explained that Gringotts offered banking drafts which were accepted in every magical proprietary institution and functioned much like Muggle checks. Harry could also always reach his account manager by owl post.

Harry then asked about statements and was told they were delivered quarterly.

"Then why have I never received one?"

Fistlock's face lost any trace of amusement. After further probing and assurances that young Potter had indeed never received a statement of any kind, which shouldn't have been surprising, given that he had been told only today he had a vault, Fistlock was livid. This was yet another avenue which could see the bank hauled into court.

Filius, meanwhile, had frowned and begun scanning Harry with his wand.

"Mr. Potter," he said softly, "you have a mail interdiction placed upon you, which means that any magical mail you should have received was directed elsewhere."

Fistlock scowled.

Harry was bewildered. "But where did it go? Why was this done, and who did it?"

It was obvious to the other two that only Dumbledore could have done this, but neither knew how to break the news to Harry. The boy solved the dilemma for him by suggesting whoever had placed the wards on Privet Drive must have also performed the interdiction spell. Neither Filius nor Fistlock disabused him of that notion - after all, it was essentially correct - they just didn't supply a name. It was far too early to pit Harry against Dumbledore.

Filius removed the spell and Fistlock provided Harry with a sheaf of past statements, ensuring that all future ones would be delivered promptly. Harry accepted the words at face value, though Filius could see the shadow of doubt creeping into his eyes. Not toward Gringotts, but toward the wizarding world in general. As sad as it made him, he couldn't argue to himself that it wasn't necessary.

* * *

Across an ocean, the negotiations in which Albus Dumbledore found himself were far more intense.

He had vastly underestimated Quinn Fabray and was paying for his hubris.

* * *

**End Notes**: These notes, I'm afraid, will be quite lengthy, but I feel they are necessary. It has been my experience as a reader that, while I enjoy surprises, when it comes fanfiction, I prefer to have some idea of how the story will unfold before I commit a preponderance of my free time to reading it.

First, my thoughts on Harry. In the first few books, I liked Harry a great deal. He was observant, inquisitive, and compelling. He paid attention to his surrounding and often saw things others did not, including Hermione. In the later books, however, it was almost as though Rowling was desperately trying to make Harry as average as possible. I didn't find that interesting in the slightest.

Some points to consider:

1) The Sorting Hat said that Harry was well-suited to _all _of the Houses. In the majority of fanfiction, this is translated as either Gryffindor or Slytherin. There is more to his character, and that of everyone else, than just what those two Houses represent. In sum, this means that Harry is brave, cunning and ambitious, intellectual, and hardworking and loyal. He is the perfect balance.

2) Harry learned and perfected the Patronus charm at thirteen years of age. Per canon, this is a feat most adult witches and wizards never accomplish. This should be not disregarded. Further, per canon, Harry's Patronus was strong enough to repel a hundred Dementors. That is in no way average.

3) Harry dueled Voldemort, and later Bellatrix, to a draw. He didn't defeat them, no, but considering everyone other than Dumbledore fell to Voldemort's wand, how can Harry be considered anything less than enormously powerful? It makes no sense to argue otherwise.

4) There is no one who will ever convince me that the Dursleys did not abuse Harry. Even if a convincing case could be made that Harry was not physically abused, it is undeniable that he was neglected. Neglect, particularly willful neglect, _is_ abuse. Most abused children do not act as Harry does in canon. They do not necessarily believe what adults tell them. They do not trust blindly. They have their own agendas because they know everyone else has one of their own. They are far more mature than their contemporaries. That is not to say they don't have bouts of immaturity, usually triggered by insecurity, nor that they can't be gullible, but they are certainly more wise and sophisticated than most children their age.

I also have a problem with people who find Harry, particularly during and after the fifth book, to be a whiny malcontent. Are you serious? At this point in canon, Harry is fifteen years old. His parents were murdered. His godfather was murdered after being unjustly imprisoned for Harry's entire life. He was abused for most of his life. Friends routinely turned on him. At points in time, he was reviled by his entire school. He was libeled severely in the press. Dumbledore, his headmaster and the leader of a corrupt government, continuously plotted to manipulate Harry's life, rob him of choices, and subvert his will. All the while, he was being stalked by a psychopath and his minions.

So, in my humble opinion, if Harry wants to throw a bitch fit, he's certainly entitled.

I like Harry. He is, without question, at the center of this fandom. The fandom would not exist without him. I think he's an incredibly complex character who was done a disservice by his creator. I'm in no way insinuating I could do better, but I hope that I wouldn't do worse.

Onto other matters, namely Harry's best friends.

I like Ron and Hermione, though I'm definitely more partial to the latter. Ron is a genuinely decent person who unfortunately allows his insecurities to get the better of him at times. Are those insecurities excusable? I rather think so. He's immature and childish, but he's also been coddled for his entire life and has lived in the shadows of his admittedly more intelligent and more talented brothers. My problem with Ron is that it's rare he's forced to face the consequences of his actions. Subsequently, he never really learns from his bad behavior. Harry and Hermione are partially to blame for this for indulging him. In some ways, this is understandable, given that neither grew up having friends.

Hermione is exceptional, and I think her character was afforded more growth than any other in the series. She's loyal to a fault and her intelligence doesn't require my commentary. That said, she is not without her poor traits. She is intractable and judgmental. She believes she always knows better, when there are times she is the most naive member of the trio. Her devotion to authority in the early books offends me, but I rather think it is her fear of punishment and disappointing others, rather than misplaced superiority, that causes her to act in the manner she sometimes does. She can also be very cruel and deliberately hurtful. Her interactions with Luna best exemplify this.

By the way, Luna is my favorite character. Do with that what you will.

I've noticed a disturbing trend in fanfiction, particularly Harmony fanfiction, whereby Hermione simply knows better than Harry. Note that I didn't say she knows more, which she certainly does, but that she knows _better_, which I believe to be false. Harry's instincts are second to none, whereas Hermione is far too rational to be of much use in situations where split-second decisions are required. There just isn't always time to consult a book, weigh the pros and cons, or seek out someone more knowledgeable. As a planner, Hermione is practically infallible. As a leader, she leaves a lot to be desired.

Further, I hate reading how Hermione cajoles and whines and nags Harry into making decisions he doesn't want to make, all on the premise that she's smarter than he is. Stories in which Hermione strikes Harry, usually put down to her turbulent emotions, gall me. No one has the right to lay hand upon another, not even when the aggressor is a woman and the girlfriend of the victim. Finally, I can't see Harry forgiving such an action, given his childhood.

So, will Hermione and Ron be Harry's best friends in this story? I honestly don't know anymore. That had been the original plan, and it will probably still happen, but I want to give potential readers some insight into how I will be approaching their characters. Regardless, Ron and Hermione will not end up together. That pairing sickens me.

As stated in my profile, I have no love for Snape and I absolutely abhor Draco. I can, and probably will, write a mostly indifferent Snape, but for those Draco lovers out there, it's best you abandon ship now. I loathe him.

I like McGonagall. I think she's awesome. I also think JKR wrote her very poorly. The characterization of her in this chapter is specifically written from Filius Flitwick's point of view, and should not be considered as my own view of the woman.

I want to do more with Sprout and Flitwick, as I feel they were mostly ignored in canon, despite the fact that they're both interesting people, if for no other reason than they are the Heads of their respective Houses.

Will Harry still be in Gryffindor? What are your thoughts on the matter?

The point of this chapter was to show how different Harry's introduction to the wizarding world could have been had it been given by someone else, someone with more experience, more authority, more understanding, and more power than Hagrid.

Please note that I do not write Hagrid's accent into the text. When the time comes, I will also not be doing that with Fleur. I find it intensely distracting. We all know how Hagrid sounds and we all know Fleur is French. There will also not be the plethora of s-sounds in Voldemort's speech. It's unnecessary.

All of this may sound as though I don't appreciate JKR's skill. This is not the case. I adore her books and am very indebted to her for creating a universe so captivating and enthralling that I return to it again and again, as well as using it for my own writing. That said, I am not required to agree with all of her choices, and I don't.

Comments? Questions? Concerns? Please feel free to address them in reviews, ask them on my Formspring, or tweet me. The links are in my profile. Please note that I'm more apt to respond to a tweet, simply because I'm often on Twitter. Reviews are sent to a dedicated email account, and while I absolutely read every single one, I don't have much time to respond to them in as much detail as I would like. I started a new job a few months ago, and it takes up a large amount of my time. Updates for all of my stories are therefore slow in coming, though I am working on them.

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you.


	6. Tug of War

Albus Dumbledore eventually came to the realization that he had been set up.

Of course, he had yet to determine if Quinn Fabray alone was responsible for his current unpalatable circumstances, or if Kurt Hummel and Santana Lopez had abetted her.

It was distressing that he couldn't reach an immediate answer. Earlier, he had suspected that Miss Fabray and Miss Lopez were playing off each other to unseat him, but he hadn't been able to establish this with any certainty.

Mr. Hummel, meanwhile, had been content to sit back and allow his cohorts to take the reins. Even now, Albus couldn't decide whether or not young Kurt was merely a disinterested passive observer or if he was a master puppeteer subtly pulling the strings of his friends.

These children were absolutely confounding! Highly intelligent and careful with their choice of words, Albus had no idea which of them was in charge or if they were instead acting upon roles long ago chosen. They appeared to communicate entire conversations with quick looks; words were unnecessary. When words were required, they often finished each other's sentences.

Most bizarrely, all of their IMAGE scores where exactly the same, down to the half-percentage. This wasn't out of the realm of possibility, of course, given that they had been training together since early childhood, but it was still unusual.

Three children, operating so effectively and with such perfect synchronicity, it was as though they were one mind in three distinct bodies. It was unsettling.

Quinn Fabray looked like an angel with her long blond hair and warm brown eyes. Her voice was sweet and gentle, but emerged from a smile which Albus could only liken to a shark.

He had spent the past hour attempting to negotiate their matriculation at Hogwarts, and it had resulted in him ceding far more ground than he had gained.

The first order of business had been class standing. Again, he had stressed his desire for the children to sit placement exams, despite their IMAGE scores. Quinn had merely scoffed, stating that they were all quite aware those scores would see them admitted to anywhere between third and fifth years at any magical school in the world. Albus knew her words were true and didn't bother to offer a rebuttal.

Quinn had then demanded that, should they select Hogwarts, they be allowed to enter as fifth years. Albus had been outraged, but simply stated that no matter their IMAGE scores, they were not advanced enough, socially or magically, to be put into classes with students four years their senior. He argued that doing so would only attract unwanted attention and resentment from the other students, which Kurt had stated he wished to avoid.

Quinn had reluctantly capitulated, Albus noticing that she did so seemingly to avoid causing any harm to her best friend, and then tried to bargain for fourth year. Albus had countered with third year admittance with the option of an increased class load, with all available classes open to them, to be reviewed after one month to determine whether or not they could handle the strain.

Quinn had conceded after a shared pointed look with the other two, and Albus had allowed himself to revel silently in his triumph. It wasn't until later that he realized Miss Fabray had given up nothing and couldn't have cared less about class standing; she merely wanted the option of extra tuition on record.

Indeed, there _was_ a record, as Miss Lopez, the solicitor-in-training, had insisted that all tenets reached by mutual agreement were to be written down in clear and plain language. It would then be signed by all present, including the children's parents at a later date, and notarized, with copies to be disbursed to all parties and filed with the appropriate agencies.

Before he could figure out Quinn's machination, however, she had launched into a reopening of one of Miss Lopez's primary concerns: class choice. Quinn had argued that, regardless of what Dumbledore believed of his school and staff, the classes available were limited in scope to a generalized education. There was nothing offered in the way of specialization, and if an accord couldn't be reached, well, Miss Fabray was so very sorry for having detained Mr. Dumbledore on a matter which had ultimately amounted to nothing.

It had been obvious to Albus that this was a deal-breaker for the children, who had already decided on their future careers and had received specialized instruction to those ends. He found Kurt's aspiration to become a Healer quite noble, and while he had no love for solicitors or financiers, he had no problem imagining Miss Lopez and Miss Fabray in those occupations.

There was also the very real truth that he no longer wanted their presence at Hogwarts simply as a means to control Harry Potter and combat Voldemort, should it be necessary. For the past decade, he had been at constant war with the Board of Governors over the direction of the school, and he knew they were very close to stepping in and monitoring his decisions on a daily basis.

Despite his best efforts to sweep them under the rug, the earlier-referenced low scores in several disciplines had been noted, and while the Board of Governors had no real power over him, they could make his life extraordinarily difficult.

He could fight them, of course, and easily win, as the formation of the Board had occurred after the charter had been created; thus, he could disband them with little effort on his part. The only reason he hadn't was so that the older families were appeased while the dark families could be observed. It was all very political on both sides, and while the Board had a history of making threats, they always fell short on acting upon them.

These three children were the pinnacle of what most believed a Hogwarts student should represent: all were Pureblood, which, unfortunately, would carry sway with the Board, regardless of their views on Muggleborns; all were advanced in their education; and Kurt Hummel was an international political figure, though not on the scale of his father or Dumbledore himself.

Albus had no qualms about offering them up to the Board as exemplars of wizarding youth, nor would he have a problem holding them up as models to the other students.

He was unsurprised when, upon asking Miss Fabray how she would suggest resolving this issue, she offered an immediate solution.

She, Santana, and Kurt would be allowed to procure, at their own expense, private tutors for the subjects they wished to pursue and would be granted school credit via independent study. After careful consideration, Albus couldn't imagine a possible downside and agreed, provided said tutors were first vetted by the school. Quinn foresaw no problems with this and Santana diligently noted said agreement on the paper which would eventually amount to a magical contract.

Satisfied, Albus allowed himself to daydream, only to be snapped out brusquely of his fantasy in which a begrudging Lucius Malfoy resigned from the Board of Governors, when Miss Fabray launched another attack.

"You realize, of course, that we wouldn't sit for your OWL or NEWT exams," she stated with utmost nonchalance.

Dumbledore's eyes bulged.

Quinn raised a brow. "Did you seriously believe that we would?" She shook her head. "Those tests are of no use to us. As Santana already explained, we will not be remaining in the United Kingdom after graduation." She paused. "Should we decide to attend, of course."

Albus frowned at yet another pointed reminder that the children, as of yet, had agreed to nothing. He didn't like others having - and using - trump cards against him. He argued that he couldn't allow them to be excused from compulsory standardized tests, and Quinn shot back with their plans to sit for the ICW analogues.

Dumbledore frankly believed that would be easier said than done. No one in recent memory, including himself, had sat for, and passed, the Intermediate Official Tuition Assessment or the Graduate Record of Advancement and Development Examination; the IOTAs and GRADEs, respectively. He had never bothered, as he had no use for the exams, which also held true for his faculty, for whom the OWLs and NEWTs were sufficient.

Still, who was he to try and dissuade them from their plan of action? If they did indeed sit for the exams and then passed them, it would be a huge boon to the school. Further, he wasn't one for insisting that something was impossible; down that road laid self-imposed limits extremely difficult to overcome.

Finally, Miss Fabray had a point: the OWLs and NEWTs were of no real value to them if they didn't plan on making the United Kingdom their home. If they chose to stay after their graduation, they could sit their NEWTs at their leisure. He was hoping that young Kurt would indeed consider remaining in the UK. As Head of the House of Potter, he would have a long list of duties and responsibilities that would be easiest to oversee if he resided in the country.

Dumbledore knew that, after Kurt was revealed to be Liam Potter, the Ministry would certainly try to interfere in his life, not the least of which was because they would want all of those many, many tax dollars staying right where they were. Of course, there was no reason or prohibitive law which would keep Kurt from emptying his accounts and trotting back to the Magical United States, but that certainly wasn't the concern of Albus Dumbledore.

"Have you considered the courses you wish to take?" he happily asked them.

The children looked at each other for a long moment and at last nodded.

"Were we to attend," Quinn began, stressing again their acceptance was only theoretical, "I would take Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Arithmancy, and what you call Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Albus nodded, seemingly deep in thought. "What about Herbology, Astronomy, Divination, Muggle Studies, History, or Ancient Runes?"

She shrugged. "I study and prefer Magical Botany, which is a hybrid between Herbology and non-magical plant science. It's more akin to a lab course than a hands-on experience, which is what Hogwarts offers. As for Astronomy, we've already perfected our study of that discipline; we've been undertaking it for almost six years and, as you can see from our IMAGE scores, we're at a level comparable to your OWLs."

He nodded again.

"I have absolutely no talent for Divination," she continued, "and it is my firm conviction that one is either a seer or one is not. No matter how many methods you study, if you don't have the inclination, it will ultimately be of no use to you." She paused. "I mean no offense to you or your staff, Mr. Dumbledore, but I've looked over the textbook for what you call Muggle Studies. It's at least one hundred years out of date."

Albus was floored. He well knew they were behind the times, which wasn't surprising, given that the Purebloods considered Muggle culture far beneath their notice, but he hadn't been aware it was that bad.

At his look, Quinn nodded. "Oh, yes! You see, in the Magical United States, magical culture has assimilated non-magical culture to the point where there is very little difference between the two. We maintain the Statute of Secrecy, of course, but non-magical advances in science, technology, fashion, and popular culture occur at an exponential rate. You will find the inclusion of non-magical culture in everything from our couture and hairstyles, to healing and law and politics, to the financial markets, to music and art and drama, throughout our society."

"Magic is a beautiful thing, Mr. Dumbledore," Kurt said quietly, "but it also has the potential to make one incredibly lazy. If you use magic for absolutely everything, even the simplest things, there is no incentive to expand beyond the boundaries of what you believe magic is capable. There is no invention of new ideas or even revolution of what is old. Society simply becomes stagnant and monolithic, eventually killing itself."

It was an attitude which Dumbledore had long held to be true, but it was a rare and dangerous opinion to have in his part of the magical world. He was also well aware that these children probably knew far more about a great many things than he ever would in terms of Muggle society.

He nodded dumbly.

After his duel with Grindelwald, he had realized many of his mistakes and become a champion of Muggleborns , as well as developing a healthy respect for Muggles. That said, he had always felt, though he would never admit this and was reluctant to do so even within the privacy of own mind, that Muggles were somewhat savage. Yes, he advocated for their right to live their lives in peace and would argue that their technology, their own version of magic, could rival some of what could be done with a wand, he still felt them inferior, on the whole, to witches and wizards.

It might just be necessary to revise some of that stance.

"I am interested in Ancient Runes," Quinn added, "but whether or not I would enroll in the course depends upon which runes we're discussing."

"Anglo-Saxon," Albus absently replied.

She nodded as though she had expected nothing more. "Futhark, then, I would suspect. What about Elder Futhark? Pictish? The various runes of the Celtic tribes?"

He looked at her blankly. Truthfully, he'd never made much of a study of runes, at least not beyond what he absolutely needed to know to further his own pursuits and translate the obscure books he was so fond of collecting. His had been very much a self-directed path.

"I am unsure," he said slowly, "as to the breadth and depth of the course. It has been recently overhauled and updated by Professor Septima Vector, who has only been with us for a year. If you would like, I would happily ask her to get in touch with you so that you might discuss it further."

Quinn nodded primly. "I would like that very much, thank you." She cleared her throat. "Regarding your history program, Santana has commented at length about what we consider the deficiencies of the class. Further, it is my understanding that it covers only the magical history of the United Kingdom, and, as we have already stated, it is not our intention to remain there after graduation. Therefore, the class is of no use to us."

Again, Albus nodded, this time with more defeat. It was a bitter tonic to swallow, being chastised, even so politely, by very young children. They had pointed out the flaws in the school of which he was so very proud, quite effortlessly, and it was extraordinarily painful for him.

"And you, Miss Lopez?"

Santana shot him a look that was at once venomous and filled with boredom. "Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Divination, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy," she drawled.

Albus didn't bother to ask about the other courses, as Miss Fabray had offered such detailed criticisms. Further, he expected that the less he engaged Santana Lopez, the happier he would be. There was something about her which recalled a young Bellatrix Black, before she had gone insane.

Still, he was curious about her desire to take Divination. If she believed the same as Miss Fabray, then the obvious conclusion was that Miss Lopez had some seer talent. Interesting.

He nodded again. "Mr. Hummel?"

"Potions, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arthimancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, and Transfiguration," he said crisply. He then paused. "Mr. Dumbledore, would you please answer some questions about your Care of Magical Creatures course?"

"If I am able, I would certainly be happy to do so," Albus replied, smiling.

"As you know, my intention is to become a Healer," Kurt said. "Exactly how detailed is this class? For example, does it discuss the anatomy and physiology of the creatures it covers, or is it more geared to future caretakers?"

"An excellent question!" Dumbledore beamed. He then thought about his answer and sighed. "Unfortunately, I don't believe the class would offer the kind of experience for which you are looking, Mr. Hummel. Anatomy is covered, but on a more superficial scale. There are elements of psychology and sociology introduced in the course as it pertains to animal behavior, pack mentality, and species interaction. I find it fascinating, but sincerely doubt it would dovetail well with human Healing. It's far more suitable as an introduction to those who plan to become veterinarians."

Kurt nodded, looking distinctly disappointed. "In that case, I would not be interested in enrolling in that class. If we accept your invitation, we will ask some of our current tutors if they are willing to portkey to Hogwarts to continue our instruction. We will make the list available to you prior to our arrival, should we agree to come."

At this point, Dumbledore suspected they kept referencing their theoretical acceptance only to annoy him.

He was right.

"If I might ask," he began, "what other subjects would you continue to study?"

They three children again looked at each other.

Dumbledore was really starting to hate those looks.

"I would continue my study of Magical Botany," Kurt said, "in order to compare and contrast it with your Herbology program, which I might or might not drop depending on the opinion I reach. I would also begin to study the biological and chemical sciences. As of now, I have been given a brief and broad overview of them. I have plans for Enchanting and Rituals, specifically as they relate to healing."

"I would continue to study advanced mathematics," Quinn offered. "I am currently well-versed in algebra and am halfway through my geometry block. Trigonometry and calculus will be next, followed by applied statistics and accounting."

"Law and history," Santana said coolly, "along with their political applications."

They didn't bother to explain that what one learned would automatically be shared with the other two. There was no reason to tell Dumbledore just how close they really were.

"We would also continue our language, music, and dance instruction," Quinn added.

"What languages do you speak?" Albus asked. "As you might know, I speak several, and am always happy to meet other polyglots."

Kurt smiled. "After we each left school and began studying privately together, we adopted the Classical rubric for education. We typically receive instruction for ten to twelve hours a day, with several breaks, and spread across almost a dozen disciplines, though several overlap. We learned Ancient Greek, but we only read it; we do not speak it. We then learned Latin and the other Romance languages, save Romanian, which we can read, write, and speak fluently. Additionally, I speak German, Arabic, and Russian; Quinn speaks Danish and Swedish; and Santana speaks Basque and Catalan."

"Outstanding!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Are there others you are interested in learning?"

"Very much," Kurt said, nodding. "I enjoy languages more than the girls do, but they also have a facility for them. We have two friends, one Korean and the other Chinese, who have introduced us to Korean and Mandarin, though we are finding them difficult to learn." He paused. "I understand that Professor McGonagall is fluent in Scottish Gaelic. Do you think she might be interested in teaching me? I would, of course, happily provide remuneration for her time and effort."

"I will certainly ask her," Dumbledore said. In fact, he would beg on bended knee to get Minerva to agree. He didn't think he would have to go that far, however. Minerva was intensely proud of her heritage and would be thrilled to pass on her knowledge to someone with a healthy intellect and a genuine desire to learn. She didn't need the money, but it would be a nice incentive to what would probably amount to her surrendering three hours of her time per week. Granted, the woman hadn't much time to spare, but she might find it in this particular case.

"And you also study music?" Albus prompted.

Santana nodded. "We all sing," she said with unabashed pride and an almost maniacal gleam in her eye, one which suggested to Albus how much music meant to the young girl. "Kurt has the best voice, though," she added.

"Absolutely untrue," Kurt said staunchly.

His tone left no doubt in Albus's mind that the boy believed his words. This was not false modesty.

"We also play instruments," Quinn said, trying to stave off what was probably a longstanding argument. In fact, Albus wondered if this was a role she often played, that of negotiator.

Albus sighed gently. "I must confess, I have always longed for that ability." He shook his head sadly. "Alas, despite my love of music, regardless how much it touches my soul, I have no talent for it. My singing voice is dreadful, and though I tried to learn the piano, it rebelled against me. In fact, I believe it highly resented my attempt."

He was surprised yet heartened when all three children, even Miss Lopez, offered him genuine smiles. He had been very impressed with their academic achievements, but sensed that music mattered far more to them in the grand scheme of things.

"Kurt plays the piano. He's wonderful!" Quinn gushed.

Kurt blushed lightly and looked down at his hands, resting in his lap. "Quinn plays the violin and the flute. Santana plays guitar and drums." He bit his lip. "The piano appears to be my only affinity."

"We know that Hogwarts offers no musical instruction," Santana interrupted, not about to put up with Kurt's inferiority complex - he played the piano as though he had invented it, "but does the school at least have facilities we could use?"

Albus repressed a sigh as the young girl's combative nature once again reasserted itself. "It is true that we have no music department, but we do have several ballrooms and unused classrooms which could easily be adapted for your purposes. However, we have no instruments for you to utilize. Thus, I am sorry to say, you would have to provide your own."

"That would not be a problem," Quinn said absently, looking past Albus as she considered his words.

Albus was cheered. The girl had been running roughshod over him for the past three hours, but perhaps he had been right in his initial opinion that Miss Fabray would be the key to securing the acceptance of the others. She was making him work for it, yes, but he also had to admire her ruthless determination.

He had, for so very long, become inured to the ramifications of his reputation. He had not taught in a classroom for several decades, as his other positions did not afford him the opportunity. Nevertheless, teaching had always been his first love. It was, therefore, highly upsetting that the students, while in awe of him, generally did not seek him out for advice or tutelage of any kind. Indeed, they always appeared humbled in his presence, which brought to mind the unfortunate comparison to Voldemort's Inner Circle.

Albus Dumbeldore, though arguably the most powerful wizard in Britain, had never wanted minions. Allies, yes, certainly, but never mindless drones who offered no opinions or challenges.

These children were a challenge, and though they had often directed the conversation and had bested him on many points, he was very much enjoying the interaction. They didn't defer to him. They had made it clear that if he wanted their respect, he would have to earn it.

It was very refreshing, and not a little bit intimidating, to have to rely on his wits, not his power or authority. Granted, he had waltzed into Kurt Hummel's home intending to capitalize on just that, only to be rebuffed for his arrogance. He had thoroughly underestimated them to his detriment and was thus deserving of some of their contempt, so it was up to him to offer recompense. It was thrilling and freeing and unfamiliar and worrisome all at the same time, and truly no hardship.

In fact, Albus loved it.

Engaging young minds was what had prompted him to become a teacher, after all, and if these children were willing, he hoped they might permit him to come down from his ivory tower on occasion to offer what wisdom he could.

He had always regretted not having his own children but, over the years, had come to view several students as his surrogate children, grandchildren and, now, great-grandchildren. He cherished them more than they would likely ever know. He had and would continue to mourn the ones lost to him.

These children, however, were no mere children, and Albus appreciated that. In fact, he relished it. He had never believed in demanding less of children simply because of their age. He had never been one to coddle, but had no qualms about offering comfort. Children had fought wars and built nations, and he found no cause to treat them as any less just because they were young. Indeed, it was a child, a mere toddler, who had ended the last magical war that had torn his nation apart. A war, he was sad to say, had been, until that point, believed to have been lost.

The children now before him - and it was becoming increasingly difficult to consider them as such, as though the very term _children_, when applied to them, seemed more an ungracious epithet - had treated him as nothing more and nothing less than another contemporary. He was quite impressed with just how unimpressed they were. He didn't necessarily _like_ it, but it was certainly interesting.

"We've yet to discuss the matter of security," Santana barked.

Dumbledore nodded, understanding why this might be a concern. Or so he thought.

"I can assure you," he began, "that Hogwarts is the safest place in magical Britain, and Mr. Hummel will..."

Kurt cut him off immediately. "It is not just a matter of my security, but that of Quinn and Santana, as well." At Dumbledore's look of surprise, he arched a brow. "Quinn's father, Russell Fabray, is a senator of the Magical United States; her mother is the niece of the Swedish Minister for Magic."

Dumbledore blinked. Well, he could understand their desire for protection for Miss Fabray, of course, but it wasn't as though she were the child of a foreign dignitary or an international diplomat in her own right, as Kurt was.

"Quinn has been kidnapped once, I've been kidnapped twice, and Santana has survived four assassination attempts," Kurt added.

Albus stared, desperately trying to convince himself that he hadn't just heard what he knew he had. Dear Merlin! Kidnappings? Assassination plots? Perpetrated against _children_ of such a young age? He was appalled and not a little bit bewildered.

How could anyone deliberately and with malice aforethought target children? Was he truly so naive? Was he that much of a relic that he was unable even to fathom that such disgusting persons walked the earth?

Of course, then he remembered Voldemort and his ruthless plan to exterminate three infants for the sake of a nebulous political agenda which had been childish in its scope.

"And Miss Lopez..." he croaked, wondering what on earth about the girl had inspired such evil plots against her very life.

Santana gave Dumbledore a feral grin. "When Kurt told us you were here, I was so excited to meet you. You see, I've heard all about you from my great-great-_great_ grandmother. I believe you know each other."

Albus was terribly confused.

Santana's grin became wider. "Esperanza Ramirez."

Dumbledore paled considerably. "Yes," he said faintly after a very long moment, "we've met on occasion."

That was an understatement. Esperanza Ramirez, still alive and menacing at the preposterous age of over two hundred years old, was one of the most fearsome magical users he had ever encountered. He would never be convinced that she was anything less than a Dark Lady. The title might never have been applied to her, most likely because no one was suicidal enough to do so, but her reputation had been cemented well over a century past.

She would give Voldemort nightmares.

In fact, Dumbledore had long ago heard a rumor that Voldemort had attempted to secure Esperanza's aid in the last war, only to be thrown by the woman from the top of the _Ojos del Salado_, the highest volcano in the world, for his efforts.

The woman was shrouded in mystery, as was most of the magic practiced by the indigenous tribes of the New World. They had easily survived the invasions of the Spanish and Portuguese, resting comfortably in their remarkable settlements high in the Andes, where they remained untroubled and unmolested for millennia. The tales of their powers, of their great feats of magic, totally incomprehensible to the modern world, had survived for thousands of years.

Ancient legends persisted that their people were indeed native to South America; they had never migrated across the Bering Strait from Asia, working their way down into the previously uninhabited Americas. It was alleged they predated Norte Chico and even Sumer. It had been suggested that they were touched by the gods and that the Incan and Aztec empires were spawned from their exiled members, mostly Squibs, whose knowledge of magic made them seem as gods to the Muggles.

Little was known about them, but they were said to be a bloodthirsty, warrior race with a matriarchal society that would have caused the Amazon tribes of Greece, Macedonia, and Anatolia to run screaming into the night. They didn't use wands, but an entirely different foci, though no one knew what precisely that was. They were an insular nation that spanned across the continent and had no tolerance for the interference of outsiders.

Esperanza Ramirez was their queen.

Dumbledore released a shaky breath. "That would mean you're..."

Santana offered a deep curtsy. "Santana, Princess of Tahuantinsuyu, the Land of the Four Quarters." She looked up and smirked. "Still interested in offering me a place at your vaunted institution, Albus Dumbledore?"

* * *

Filius accompanied Harry to his vault, guided by Fistlock himself.

He was amused by the comical look on Harry's face when the door opened and the boy got his first look at what was probably more money than he had ever seen. Granted, it was just a trust vault, and Filius still had many questions about the rest of Harry's estate. He had previously thought about broaching the matter with Fistlock, but knew it would be both imprudent and impudent, as well making things more difficult for Harry.

Harry began peppering Fistlock with numerous questions, specifically about the denominations of knuts and sickles, as well as the ratio of pure metal vs. alloy and investment opportunities for beginners. Again, Fistlock was impressed. He was still of the belief that humans were basically worthless, but at least the young Potter had a head for business, which was certainly more than his father ever had. He'd only ever met Lily Potter once, but the woman had struck him as very sensible and practical. Obviously, the boy took after his mother.

Harry looked around at the piles of money, debating how much he should remove for his school supplies. He began questioning both Filius and Fistlock about the average cost of books, robes, and other essentials, surprised to discover he was expected to use parchment and quills. Finally, he decided to take a small amount of spending money to see him through the school year and would use drafts to pay for the necessities.

Fistlock took them back to the surface, handed Harry and Filius their copies of the Hogwarts Charter, and nodded cordially when Harry demurely but sincerely thanked him for his assistance. Harry then looked to Filius as to what they should do next.

Flitwick decided robes were in order and escorted the boy from the bank to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. They waited for their turn, Filius distracting Harry from Draco Malfoy, who was in the middle of being fitted for his own robes.

As Harry looked over the available materials, it was apparent he was judging their worth against the noted price. He wondered if he was to buy new robes every year, deciding that would be quite expensive. He knew he had the money, but he had no intention of wasting it unnecessarily. After all, it wasn't as though he grew very often. He then stumbled across a chart which outlined charms at an additional cost: heating, cooling, and adjustment. He quickly added up the numbers in his head.

Based on his average growth and weight gain, he believed his initial set of robes could see him through his second year and possibly his third. The charms were worth their cost and he decided to avail himself of them. As he began thumbing through a binder of additional options just out of curiosity, he came across a display for family crests.

Remembering that Ironmaw had referred to his parents as Lord and Lady, he wondered if his family had its own crest. He put that very question to Filius, who realized that Harry absolutely required a more thorough introduction to the wizarding world.

"Indeed so, Mr. Potter," he said. "If you don't see your coat of arms in the catalogue, we should inquire with Madam Malkin herself. She would certainly know."

Harry nodded and looked over his shoulder, pleased to see the vain git ahead of him was being rung up by the clerk. Harry frowned at the other boy's condescending tone. What a ponce.

Filius smirked when he saw Harry giving the young Malfoy a look of disapproval.

"Professor," Harry began, "what laundry facilities are available at Hogwarts? I know how to do the wash, of course, but is soap and fabric softener provided, or do I need to supply my own?"

Filius blinked, his mouth hanging slightly open as he wondered what on earth fabric softener was supposed to be. He hesitated to broach the subject of House Elves, knowing that Muggleborn and Muggle-raised children tended to become very incensed about what they considered slavery. He made a mental note to get Harry a book about the matter while he explained that laundry was a service whose cost was included in the price for room and board.

Harry nodded and let Filius usher him onto the small platform before a series of mirrors. Madam Malkin predictably gushed over Harry, much to the boy's bewilderment and chagrin. It was apparent he was neither comfortable nor welcoming of his fame. Filius cleared his throat and shot the proprietor a severe look, which served to calm her down.

Harry decided on a set of five robes with the extra charms and his family crest, believing it would in some small way help him feel closer to his parents, as well as three sets of school uniforms, two pairs of shoes, the proper underclothes, and a sky-blue cloak trimmed with silver for the winter months. Filius was pleased to note that blue was Harry's favorite color, and though the man knew it was ridiculous, he couldn't help but hope it suggested the boy was bound for Ravenclaw.

Harry asked Madam Malkin about nightclothes and activewear. Unfortunately, she had little selection to choose from in the latter, but offered either silks or satins in the former. Harry privately thought those materials were far too extravagant for someone his age. Sensing his indecision and desire not to hurt her feelings, she suggested a Muggle store for which she had a catalogue and knew a Squib who was an employee.

Harry happily took the catalogue and Madam Malkin told him the rest of his order would be ready in a hour. He thanked her for her assistance and allowed Filius to guide him across the Alley to Flourish and Blotts Bookstore.

Filius carefully watched Harry's reaction to the spectacle, trying to gauge what kind of student Harry might be. The boy gaped and stared wide-eyed at all of the available material.

A clerk and former Ravenclaw student, Derek Capwell, noticed his favorite professor and immediately headed toward him.

"Hello, Professor Flitwick!" Derek said cheerfully. "I didn't expect to see you here today."

Filius smiled and nodded his head. "Good afternoon, Mr. Capwell. I am escorting a new student on his first trip to Diagon Alley and we are here to purchase his textbooks."

Derek turned and smiled at the boy, before startling at a peculiar and distinctive scar which had been only marginally concealed. "Oh, my," he whispered.

Harry pursed his lips and stepped partially behind Flitwick, who scowled at his former student.

Derek flushed, mortified by his blatant fascination. He murmured that he would run and gather the requisite first year materials and then proceeded to do just that.

Filius turned and gave Harry what he hoped was a winning smile. "Well, Mr. Potter, while Mr. Capwell does that, would you like to look around?"

A subdued Harry nodded.

Filius swallowed a sigh, sad to see Harry withdrawing back into his shell.

"Do you enjoy studying, Harry?" he asked.

Harry nodded shyly. "Yes, but Uncle Vernon would get angry with me when I scored better than Dudley, so I was only allowed to do enough homework that I wouldn't fail my courses." He stared down at the floor. "I like learning. I know I'm not worth much, but I am smart, or at least smarter than people believe me to be."

He said those words with a touch of defiance in his voice, and Filius was pleased to see some of the lad's earlier fire reassert itself.

Harry looked at Flitwick. "Professor, given what you've told me that the wizarding world thinks of me, they probably also expect I know all about their customs and beliefs, but I don't! What will I say when they ask my opinions? I don't want them to think me stupid."

Before Filius could even open his mouth to reply, Harry barreled forward. Having determined he would not be punished for asking questions, he decided to ask some of his more burning ones.

"Is there some wizard religion? What are your holidays? Do you have a government? If so, what is it like? Is it modeled on Muggle traditions, like the House of Lords and the House of Commons, or is there a monarchy? An oligarchy?"

Filius blinked.

"Also, what _is_ magic, anyway? Why do some people have it and others don't? Is magic the same throughout the world, or are there differing, er, traditions? You said I would have to get a wand, but does everyone use a wand? What are they made out of? Can you use any wand, or is your wand special to you and your magic? Do people use something other than wands? Is there wandless magic?"

A smile slowly spread across Filius' face.

"Why are goblins in charge of the economy?" Harry demanded. "How did that happen, and why? Is it like that everywhere? Is Gringotts an international conglomerate, or are there other banks? Do they hold a monopoly in Britain? Also, just what _are_ these classes I'm supposed to take? Should I read the books prior to starting Hogwarts? Am I going to be tested on anything? Are there placement exams?

"You mentioned the school is divided into houses. What are these houses? What are they like? What makes each one so unique? What house do you think suits me? Do I get to choose which house I want? Where exactly _is _Hogwarts? How big is it? Is it by the sea? I've never been to the sea. What are the teachers like?"

Filius wanted to dance a jig of glee. Questions! So many wonderful questions! At last, Harry felt safe enough to ask them, or perhaps he could simply no longer suppress his curiosity. Filius was elated. He gently took Harry's elbow in hand and guided the boy to the Magical History section. Best to start at the beginning, after all.

"What classes did my parents like, Professor? In which ones did they excel? Will I eventually get to choose other classes? What happens if I struggle in a certain class? Is there tutoring or extra credit available? What about sports? What happens if..."

* * *

**End Notes**: I want to offer a preemptive strike to those who might take issue with the education Kurt and the girls have received. The Classical rubric is indeed real, and it was adhered to by royalty and nobility for centuries. Children received detailed and exhausted tuition in a variety of subjects for exceedingly long hours over a number of years. There was no question about it; it was just done.

Personally, I was always very bored in school. I had been taught to read and write by my parents before kindergarten and was already doing advanced arithmetic before it was formally taught to me. My education was hampered because I was forced to restrain myself, allowing my fellow students to catch up with me. I wanted better for Kurt, so that's what I did. If you don't like it, feel free to find another story.

Imagine if, when you were a child, you were allowed to study whatever you wished in however much depth you felt was suitable for you, if there were no limits save those imposed by yourself? What could you have accomplished? What would have been your upper limit?

I gave Kurt and Quinn political clout, but made Santana royalty. Why? Because Dumbledore needs to be made aware of the fact that he cannot control everything, and he most especially will not be able to control these children. He might hold magical Britain in his grasp, but magical Britain is not the world. I wanted it very clear that there are other witches and wizard both in Dumbledore's league and beyond it. It's a standard trope for fanfiction, but cliches are such for a reason, and I hope to do some innovative things. I always felt Rowling made her world too insular. It was depressing for me, how repressive it was and how it was allowed for Harry to be treated so shabbily. That won't be an option for Kurt and the girls; they won't allow it to be.

A note on Dumbledore: it's my belief that Dumbledore is an extremely manipulative man, but he is not malicious. He honestly means well, but he abuses his authority, in part because people allow him to do so. There seems to be very little in the way of checks and balances in magical Britain, and Dumbledore is holding most of the positions of power. So, yes, Dumbledore is mercurial but generally benevolent, even if he goes about achieving his aims in hurtful and detrimental ways. He is also incredibly and stubbornly naive, and often downright willfully ignorant. Such traits can be used against him, as Kurt and the girls did.

By the way, it should be inferred that there's a lot about themselves Kurt, Quinn, and Santana have omitted from their discussion with Dumbledore. Because there is.

Harry. As previously stated, I love Harry. In the beginning he was curious and suspicious and observant, then that all fell by the wayside. I want him to have those traits. I want a capable adult who can answer the questions he never thought he had the right to ask. As much as I love Hagrid, he isn't that person.

A review for the last chapter rightfully called me to the carpet about the convenience of having Dumbledore getting Flitwick to escort Harry to Diagon Alley. The simple answer, of course, is that it's a plot device. One should keep in mind, however, that Filius is a wild card in this story. As previously explained, Filius' allegiance is to Hogwarts, not Dumbledore, but Dumbledore knew that Filius was a good choice. He was also counting on Filius to brief Harry about the fact that Lily was his favorite student. It was absolutely a manipulation on Dumbledore's part to convince Harry to attend Hogwarts. Dumbledore might not control Filius, but neither does he expect too much trouble from him, either.

Another reviewer asked very astute questions about Kurt's blood adoption and what that means for his claim to the House of Potter. Those questions will be answered, but not just yet. To that reviewer, your points were well-received, but there was something very simple you overlooked: Kurt's adoption was not legal.

As always, comments and questions are welcomed. Review, check out my Formspring, or tweet me (links in the profile). Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, favorited, etc. This story is getting far more response than I thought it would, and I love how intelligent and insightful your questions and comments are. Nothing is better than a smart audience, and know that I appreciate you so very much.


	7. The Core of the Problem

**Author's Note**: A short chapter, but hopefully a satisfying one. An aside: I'm known for writing somewhat long chapters, but only when I feel it serves the story. This particular story, however, does better with shorter chapters, in my opinion.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore found himself in a conundrum: what to do with Santana Lopez?

It was quite obvious that the girl in question understood the nature of his problem and was reveling in it. No matter what he decided, she would have him over the proverbial barrel.

If he recanted his invitation to Hogwarts, Quinn Fabray and, obviously, Kurt Hummel, would also refuse to attend. It was apparent that their acceptance depended on hers. Albus didn't know what, precisely, tied these three children to each other, but it was certainly much more than originating from families which held an obscene amount of political power.

If, however, he resolved to admit her, her familial tie to Esperanza Ramirez would be discovered - for there was absolutely no chance to suppress it - and he would be politically assassinated by the pro-Light contingent of his country, the very contingent of which he had been the undisputed head for over fifty years.

Even if Miss Lopez had not committed any crimes herself, and he was far from certain that was the case, those of her ancestor could not be denied. Esperanza had never been tried or convicted for her many questionable activities - indeed, nothing of substance had ever stuck to the woman - but her reputation was fixed and universally accepted. Nothing could be proven, of course, but the court of public opinion had made itself clear. Further, as Miss Lopez was not a British citizen, he would be unable to fall back on his tired refrain that all magical children, despite their families, were entitled to a Hogwarts education.

Still, there was the very real prospect that the pro-Dark families would welcome Miss Lopez to Hogwarts with open arms. In fact, it was most probable that they would champion her on Dumbledore's behalf, inadvertently sheltering him from the majority of the political fallout. The fact that she was so closely allied with Mr. Hummel, and therefore the United States, as well as Miss Fabray, who had political ties with both the US and Sweden, might mitigate even more of the distaste the presence of Miss Lopez was sure to arouse.

Finally, the fact that Miss Lopez was royalty could not be discounted. Yes, the citizens of magical Britain would be upset by the reputation of her many-greats grandmother, but Miss Lopez, despite her attitude to the contrary, was still a child. That, coupled with the fact of her royal title, would go a long in swaying them towards acceptance.

No matter how sophisticated they might proclaim themselves to be, people, in general, were still dazzled by royalty and the aristocracy. Even though titles in their world were now more ceremonial than anything else, the Ancient and Most Noble Families of Britain still enjoyed a huge amount of political capital, not to mention money. Also, there was the matter that Kurt himself was heir to one of those families.

The bottom line was that Albus needed Kurt Hummel. Should Harry falter or be killed, he would have to be replaced with either his brother or Neville Longbottom. That was the mandate of the prophecy, and Albus still held it to be true. Voldemort might have chosen to attack the Potters first, and thus make part of the prophecy self-fulfilling insofar as he had marked Harry, but he had further chosen to attack Harry before Kurt. The power of the prophecy was thus tied to Harry, but should something to him, Kurt and Neville were the only other options.

Frankly, after what he had heard regarding the capabilities of Neville Longbottom, Albus figured that, after Harry, Kurt was the best option the world had. In fact, Kurt might be an even better choice than his brother, but destiny had manifested in a particular way and there was nothing to be done for it.

That said, was it possible that Kurt Hummel himself was the power Voldemort knew not?

Albus blinked owlishly and shook himself from his ruminations, his decision made. He would rather suffer temporary setbacks than wonder what might have been should he allow Kurt to slip through his fingers. He cleared his throat.

"Miss Lopez, I assure you," he said slowly, "that you will be welcome at Hogwarts."

He paused, waiting for her reaction, which was sadly not forthcoming. He was not truly surprised. Now that he had been made aware of her true identity, her attempts at provoking him made sense. Too, he was now better able to understand her keen political acumen. What was not so clear, however, was how much of her training had spilled over to the other two children, or how much theirs had influenced her.

It was very curious, their relationship. Albus knew he had, and most likely would never have, any real insight into just what it was that bound them together, but he was certain it was far more than what it appeared. He noticed that Miss Fabray had arched an eyebrow at his declaration, while Mr. Hummel was utterly bored by all of it.

Santana coolly observed him. "I'm so pleased," she said, her voice toneless. "That does not address, however, our security concerns."

"I would welcome your suggestions," Albus said casually.

He knew there was no other way around it. If he wanted the children to attend, and he did, he would have to capitulate on a great many things.

They had carefully shepherded him to this point, boxing him into a situation where he had only two choices, and he had to admire them for it. They didn't need him or Hogwarts, and he was now painfully aware of that fact. Still, none of their demands were outrageous; they had merely bargained for what any other school would have gladly offered them. Also, he well understood their need for security, which was more than Hogwarts on its own could provide.

Kurt leaned forward, eyes shining with some unknown emotion. "I have a few ideas."

Oh, Albus was quite certain that he did.

At last, Liam Potter was engaged.

* * *

Harry found that he was quite willing to part with a considerable amount of gold in order to procure for himself the books Professor Flitwick felt were necessary. In point of fact, once the final total had been tallied, Harry was rather startled by just how low it was. He hadn't been paying attention to the cost, merely adding books which were either recommended or caught his interest to an ever-growing pile which was soon split off into three additional.

Derek Capwell, the clerk who, of his own volition, had assigned himself to Harry, looked ready to faint with happiness. Harry supposed he was paid on commission.

Aside from his textbooks, the majority of the tomes dealt with magical history in Britain, chronicling its progress since the time of King Arthur and Merlin. Much of what had preceded that era was lost to time, which Harry found frustrating. He well knew that human history had records going back several millennia, but wizarding history in Britain didn't appear to exist prior to Camelot.

That made no sense to Harry, but he would lay it aside until he could delve into his studies.

There were two books on religion, which were rather thin and, upon closer inspection, relatively worthless. Harry kept them only because they had intriguing bibliographies and was assured by Professor Flitwick that Hogwarts' renowned library possessed many of the books listed, and Harry would be welcome to peruse them to his heart's content.

Magical Britain had no official religion, nor did it maintain any specific stance on the subject itself. People were welcome to worship whatever or whomever they wanted, provided it neither harmed nor infringed upon the rights of anyone else. From what Harry could infer from his brief scanning of the material, the majority of those who practiced religion followed the practices of the ancient Druids called the Old Ways, which were not really a religion, per se, but more of a philosophy.

Harry supposed that revering Nature and the pagan gods made about as much sense as any other form of worship, but he wasn't sure it was right for him. Regardless, he was very interested in reading up on the subject. Apparently, there were all sort of forgotten laws still on the books pertaining to the Old Ways, and he was keen on learning more.

The Dursleys hadn't been particularly religious. They attended Sunday services at whichever Protestant parish was fashionable at the time, but they weren't true believers. They certainly had no interest in the Golden Rule or adhering to the measures Christ had laid forward in the Bible. Harry had never been invited to go with them. He hadn't really been exposed to the Bible, but he had heard and read some of its teachings. He couldn't say that he agreed with all of them, but there were certain ones which made sense to him.

There were pockets of Christianity in the wizarding world, arising predominantly with the mainstreaming of Muggleborn children, some of whom were loath to abandon the religion they had practiced prior to entering Hogwarts. Harry was curious as to how they reconciled their faith with their new situation, that magic existed and that they themselves were witches and wizards. He may have not been familiar with the Bible, but he had heard the saying _thou shall not suffer a witch_.

There also existed other religious sects, again carried over into the world of magic by the Muggleborn, namely Judaism, Islam, and Hindu. Again, as he had no real exposure to those religions, he had no opinion on them, either. Although Harry believed he had very good instincts about people, institutions were more woolly.

One lesson he had learned from the Dursleys was not to judge based on appearances. The Dursleys put forth the appearance that they were good people, but Harry knew better. The Dursleys had engineered the appearance that Harry was a criminal in the making, and Harry had been unfairly judged for it, when it couldn't have been further from the truth.

The issue of religion was not an easy one, and Harry's interest was more academic than not. Perhaps he would find a religion which would suit him, but he wouldn't be troubled if that didn't happen.

The other books covered a wide array of subjects, including government and politics, law, and magical theory. These interested Harry far more. He wanted to understand why he and his mother had magic, but his aunt and cousin did not. He had only the faintest understanding of genetics, but presumed that magic was somehow biologically determined. The books he had on the theory of magic didn't put much stock in Muggle science, so they most likely would not be very helpful, but Harry still wanted to read them, to understand.

He had explained this to Professor Flitwick, who encouraged his explorations. Flitwick then, with noticeable reluctance, explained about blood status and how it often governed their world. It didn't make much sense to Harry, all of the permutations that existed. Why were people treated like milk? Whole, half-and-half, two percent, one percent, skim.

Magic was magic. One either had it or one did not.

He relayed his conclusion to Flitwick, who was delighted by his nonjudgmental attitude, but warned Harry that he would never be considered anything other than a half-blood by the upper echelons of society.

Harry didn't understand. How could he be a half-blood? From what Flitwick had explained, half-bloods were half-magical and half-Muggle. Despite the absurdity, he could understand the theory. However, his mother had been a Muggleborn and his father a Pureblood. How could he himself be half of anything when both his parents had been magical?

Wasn't it more likely that the Muggleborn were actually new Purebloods introduced into the gene pool by Nature to ensure that magicals didn't become extinct through inbreeding? If that were the case and, political machinations aside, Harry didn't understand how it could be anything else, his mother had been a first-generation Pureblood, and thus Harry himself was Pureblood.

Flitwick stared at the boy, the argument turning around in his head. Unbeknownst to both of them, Harry's musings had gathered somewhat of an audience, many of whom were muttering over his hypothesis and debating its merits. Try as some of them might, they couldn't think of a reasonable argument to refute his claims. Luckily, there were no blood bigots amongst them, but the gossip would spread regardless.

Thankfully, Harry had pulled the bill his cap further down his face, thus obscuring the scar. Otherwise, the headline of tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_ would have incited a firestorm. For young Derek Capwell, himself a half-blood, Harry's suggestion was revelatory, and he planned to investigate it further.

Flitwick had no clear answer, which was fine with Harry. He understood that while the simplest solution was usually the right one, that often didn't hold when applied to complex social issues.

There were also a few selections which served as guides to Muggleborns, basically the who's who and what's what of magical Britain. Harry would certainly need those, although he was developing a resentment that he didn't know them already. The Dursleys had kept all of this information from him, along with whoever had placed him in their care. He had his suspicions about that, but wouldn't voice them until he had more evidence. He knew better than to rush into things blindly. Such action often resulted in punishment.

Harry was agog as Flitwick shrunk all of the books down to a size which easily fit the palm of Harry's own hand. He definitely needed to learn that charm, and had paid careful attention to the wand movement and incantation. Professor Flitwick had told him that books on wands could be found in the wand shop, which they would be visiting quite soon. Harry couldn't help but be slightly excited about what kind of wand he would receive.

* * *

Flitwick ushered him from the store, throwing a look at Capwell that told the boy to keep his mouth shut, and then guided Harry to the stationery shop next door. Harry bought himself a standard trunk, not bothering with the extravagant security options available, opting instead for the basic ones. He had nothing that required such drastic protection and presumed that if anything of his was stolen, he could simply report it to the faculty, who would undoubtedly take care of it.

He thought perhaps it was possible that he was being naive, but considering he had grown up with almost nothing to call his own, he wasn't too worried. He could only hope that someone would steal Dudley's old rags, and books could be replaced.

He then, on Flitwick's advice, purchased a rucksack of some quality. It was distressed leather and the color of caramel, and Harry did ask for a few extra charms on it, including an expansion charm, a feather-light charm, and a tracking charm which would allow him to find the bag were it ever misplaced. The tracking charm would be activated with his wand and attuned to his own magical signature. He was given a pamphlet with detailed instructions on how to cast the spell once he had procured a wand.

He then grabbed several reams of parchment, including some scrolls, in addition to a number of quills, bottles of ink, and an inkwell. He thought parchment and quills were ridiculous, but knew better than to say so out loud. Apparently, tradition was very important in the wizarding world and he refused to be someone who downplayed little things which made others happy.

That said, he also grabbed a store catalog which had, on the last few pages, a large selection of biros and notepads, making a mental note to order some later after he determined whether or not they would be permitted. At the very least, he should be able to use them for notes.

Flitwick cautioned him that many Muggleborn students had difficulty adjusting to quills and ink, and Harry should therefore take some time to practice his writing prior to turning in assignments. He colored slightly, knowing that his penmanship was absolutely atrocious and the bane of several former teachers' existences. Part of the problem, of course, was that he could barely see what he was writing and often had to guess as to how his writing appeared. If he really was to get new glasses, perhaps he could improve his penmanship accordingly.

Again, his purchases were shrunk down and stowed in a pocket, before Flitwick led him from the store. Harry gamely followed the tiny professor, only to halt in his movements when he heard a frantic screech. Narrowing his eyes and searching for the source of the sound, his eyes fell on Eyelops Owl Emporium.

Instantly, Harry knew he had to go into that store.

Wondering what had caused his charge to cease his movements, Flitwick turned around with a curious glance, his eyes softening when he saw Harry staring avidly at the pet store. He was quite sure the boy had never been allowed a pet of his own and, had he brought home a stray, Flitwick wouldn't have put it past those horrid Dursleys to have killed it just for the sake of hurting the boy.

"Students are allowed a pet, you know," he said quietly. "An owl, a toad, or a cat." He paused at Harry's lack of reaction. "Would you like to go inside?"

Harry nodded once and barreled across the street, barely managing to refrain from knocking into several adults out for a casual stroll. He had to get inside.

Flitwick shook his head merrily and gave chase.

Harry didn't know what awaited him in Eyelops, but he hoped it wasn't a cat. He didn't care for cats, probably having developed a disdain for them thank to the many felines that lived with Mrs. Figg. He didn't imagine toads were that exciting, either.

An owl it was, then. He just had to find the right one.

As soon as he entered the shop, he was bombarded with the hysterical screeching of the most beautiful owl he had ever seen. Not that he had seen many owls, of course, or even knew anything about them, but he knew this gorgeous creature, almost pure white, would be leaving the shop with him.

The owl alighted on his shoulder, cocked its head, and glared at him as if to say _What took you so long?_ and _Remove me from this place immediately!_

Harry beamed at the owl and reached up to stroke its feathers gently. The owl made an appreciative sound and fluttered its eyes.

"Hello," Harry said softly. "My name is Harry. Am I to be yours, then?"

The owl regarded him with a cool look which clearly communicated _Duh_, although Harry was sure the owl would have used a much more regal phrase.

The shopkeeper made several exclamations about the temerity of this owl and how it had refused all other prospective customers. Harry didn't pay any mind, much more consumed with giving his new owl as much attention as it desired, which was apparently quite a bit. Flitwick was left to pick up the slack as Harry walked around the store pointing at things which he felt his owl might like. Incredibly, the owl hooted either affirmatively or negatively at his choices.

"You prefer these treats?" Harry asked.

A semi-excited hoot.

"Do you need a perch?"

The owl cuffed him with its wing.

Harry sighed. "I suppose you need something grand, don't you? You must be a girl."

She bit his ear.

"There's no need for violence," Harry chided.

The owl actually _snorted_ at him.

"So that's how it's going to be," he said mournfully.

She gave a happy chirp.

Flitwick stood stunned at what he was seeing. He doubted the shopkeeper noticed the very faint glow surrounding Harry and his owl, but Filius recognized it for what it was. He shook his head in mirth. Leave it to Harry Potter to find his familiar the very same day he found out he was a wizard. The owl had obviously been waiting its master, though Filius supposed Harry wasn't quite a master. If anything, the owl had claimed ownership of him.

"You might want to think about a cage," he advised.

Harry turned toward him and scoffed. "A cage? For her? Certainly not." He stuck his nose up in the air and continued perusing the shelves. The owl threw a look over her wing at the tiny professor.

Filius would have sworn that owl was _laughing_ at him.

Harry stopped before a shelf of books. He looked up at his new friend. "Which ones, do you think? I want to be able to care for you properly."

Filius and the shopkeeper stared. Their mouths then fell open when the owl indicated with a wing which books Harry should purchase.

Harry nodded and grabbed everything his friend suggested before then taking his purchases to the counter. This was instance in which he was unwilling to haggle. He laid down fifty galleons and told the clerk to keep the change. When the clerk opened his mouth to protest, the owl barked at him.

The clerk blinked and said nothing more, quietly slipping the money into the till.

Filius was vastly amused. "I think Ollivanders, next," he said. "It's time for you to get your wand."

Harry looked at the owl. "What do you think, Hedwig? Time for a wand?"

Hedwig nodded.

"Hedwig?" Filius asked. "Why did you choose that name for her?"

Harry began walking toward the door. "I didn't. She told me what her name was."

Flitwick's eyes bulged and he raced after the boy.

* * *

Filius noted with no small amazement that Harry's confidence had grown exponentially after having found Hedwig. The boy was no longer trailing after him, but authoritatively heading toward Ollivanders Wand Shop with a steady stride.

Harry stood before the shop, craning his neck up to read the sign. "That old? Well, we should certainly find something in here, Hedwig."

Hedwig preened his hair in response.

The three of them - and Filius couldn't help but consider Hedwig a person in her own right; a most curious owl - entered the shop and waited for service.

Moments later, an elderly man stepped out of the backroom and stared appraisingly at Harry, who met his gaze unflinchingly.

"I've been waiting for you, Mr. Potter," he said.

Hedwig hissed.

Harry looked up at her and nodded. "I need a wand, sir."

"Of course, of course," Ollivander said, inclining his head at Filius, who had always felt the wandmaker was somewhat creepy. "Which is your wand hand?"

Harry blinked. "I'm right-handed, if that's what you mean."

The next forty minutes were spent on countless and unnecessary measurements as Harry then proceeded to try almost every wand in the store.

"I wonder..." Ollivander said mysteriously, before disappearing.

Hedwig snorted again.

"That's not very ladylike," Harry observed.

Hedwig responded by digging her talons into his shoulder.

"Point taken," he said weakly.

Ollivander then returned and made a great show about this certain wand before handing it over to Harry, who took it reflexively. The entire shop lit up with red and green sparks that bathed the surroundings in a festive Christmas glow.

Filius looked down at the floor in disappointment, wondering if the colors from Harry's new wand were suggestive of which House he might enter. Were that the case, he would have to accept the boy would either be a Gryffindor or Slytherin.

Ollivander prattled on about the history of the wand before saying something which drew Harry up short. He slowly turned his head and glared at the shopkeeper.

Filius felt the temperature of the shop plummet inexplicably.

Shared wand cores, was it? The wand which was to be his, which had supposedly _chosen _him, shared a core with that which had killed his parents? And Ollivander had the nerve to stand there and declare it all but a totem? He dared to pontificate that, like the owner of the other wand, Harry was destined for great things? He had the audacity to insinuate that Harry was in any way similar to Voldemort?

That simply wouldn't do.

"And how much is this wand, sir?" Harry softly asked.

Ollivander quoted the price.

Harry looked to Hedwig, who nodded. Carefully, Harry reached his free hand into his money pouch and withdrew the set amount, placing it on the counter.

He then snapped the wand, dropped the pieces to the floor, and watched with satisfaction as the phoenix feather inside floated free and immolated itself.

Filius stared at Harry with incredulity.

Ollivander stood with jaws agape before he began mouthing silent words.

"I am nothing like Voldemort, sir," Harry said sharply. "Next."

* * *

**End Notes**: And enter Hedwig. Let me state upfront that while Luna is my favorite _human_ character, Hedwig is my favorite _everything_. People make much about Hermione being the only person to remain absolutely loyal to Harry, and while that's true to an extent, she has _nothing_ on Hedwig, who sacrificed her life, and gladly, to protect her boy.

I usually keep plot elements close to the vest, but I will state definitively here and now that I will never, ever kill off Hedwig. I'd kill everyone else first and declare Hedwig the Queen of the Earth, but she's that already and doesn't need me to declare anything.

No shared wand cores. Why? Because I don't think it was that interesting a plot device. Sure, it bought Harry some time in his various duels with Voldemort, but only when their wands connected in the course of opposing spells, which was statistically infinitesimal. Did Harry really get anything from the ghosts of his dead parents and friends other than some encouragement? I would say no. It could be argued that he needed that encouragement, but did it actually help him later? Did it make him feel good, or was it only yet another reminder of all he had lost? I suppose it's debatable. At any rate, no _Priori Incantatem_. Draw your own conclusions as to what this might mean.

You might be interested in some decisions I've made for this story, so here's some teasers. I won't be offering details or explanations, so do with this what you will.

Kurt, Quinn, and Santana will all be in the same House.

The kids know a lot about Hogwarts and its faculty. Don't be surprised if they know some of the students.

Harry will not be in Gryffindor.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville will be integral parts of the story.

Yes, I know who Kurt's boyfriend will be. Yes, he will be from the HP world. No, other Glee kids will not be popping up much, at least not until second or third year, and only one or two might be around to stay. Yes, there will be more with Sue (because she _has_ to meet Snape). Yes, Luna will feature heavily. No, there won't be slash for Harry. Yes, Quinn will eventually have a boyfriend and Santana a girlfriend.

Finally, several reviewers have stated that they generally do not like Quinn. I personally don't care for her canon character, but I see bits and pieces of her which, were they to be expanded, form a character I greatly like. I like Quinn; or, I should say, I like how I write her. I know others would have preferred another character, but I had always planned on Quinn, even before Santana.

Questions (I won't promise to answer), comments, concerns? Review, tweet me, or visit my Formspring (links in profile)!

Thanks for reading!


	8. Balls to the Wall

**Author's Note**: In which Kurt puts the screws to dear Dumbles.

* * *

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that," Dumbledore said succinctly.

"Then we appreciate your time and wish you good day," Kurt easily replied.

Dumbledore blinked, shocked at the blatant dismissal, though he had known it was a risk the moment he denied their requests.

Santana shook her head, exchanging glances with her two cohorts, who gave her subtle nods of encouragement. If Dumbledore was going to be difficult, it was best they nip it in the bud quickly. In the end, it wasn't necessary for them to attend Hogwarts to secure Harry. There were legal maneuvers they could employ which would be far easier and take up much less time. Then there were the _illegal _ones, which would probably be a lot more fun.

"You're not getting this," Santana said flatly. "The fact of the matter is that you need us far more than we need you. Don't think we didn't notice your evasion about why you're so interested in Kurt. Your martyred reply about ensuring the children of Britain receive an education really was so much nonsense."

Dumbledore couldn't believe this child's gall, that she had so easily called him out in such a mundane way. Still, he held a grudging respect for her. He didn't want to feel it, but he also couldn't help it. Besides, she was right and she, and everyone else present, knew it. They had no need of him, not really, and though he had granted almost every request they had made, he and they knew any other magical school would concede the same and much more to ensure their attendance.

"Magical Britain makes much about their aristocracy," Quinn said, "but the bottom line is that we have political power of which they could only dream to hold, and we're still children. Over time, our influence will only grow. The Treasury of the Magical United States has already expressed keen interest in me. Should I desire, after completing my education, I could easily secure a position in the Ministry of Sweden, with the goal of becoming the Exchequer."

She wasn't bragging, Dumbledore understood, but merely stating a fact. She also wasn't employing false modesty, a trait to which Albus himself often fell prey. She simply had no desire for pretense. It appeared her friends were of a similar mind.

"Esperanza has already declared her intention to abdicate to Santana when the time comes," Quinn continued, "so she will therefore be quite busy running an empire and ruling her people." She shrugged. "As for Kurt, he's made clear his intentions of becoming a Healer. What he hasn't explained is that his ultimate goal is the creation and implementation of a global health initiative dedicated to improving and sustaining the well-being of the international magical community."

She waved a hand. "Even if he turned away from that goal, his political career is already established. He is the most successful of the Youth Ambassadors and is in high demand as a motivational speaker regarding the role of children in our society. There are those already making noise about drafting him to run for House Representative when he turns twenty-five, followed by a turn as senator, and then the presidency."

Albus swallowed heavily.

"Just so we're clear," Quinn said in a cold voice, "we may appear to be children, but we have given our futures serious thought and have dedicated _years_ to achieving our goals." She raised a brow. "We have the magical power, the political and financial capital, and the sheer determination to do just that."

She crossed her legs and regarded Dumbledore with a cool look. "We don't know, precisely, just what your agenda is, but we know that you have one." She shrugged a shoulder. "And that's fine. We don't really care. It could be something as banal as desiring to buttress the sagging reputation of your school, or it could be far more sinister."

She leaned forward. "But know this: if you think we're going to be mindless drones, flapping about to cater to your whims, think again. We're young, but we're not stupid. We know who you are. We know your reputation. We know far more than you think." She cocked her head and smiled. "The question you should be asking yourself is not whether you can convince us to let you use us, but to what extent are we willing to be used? As well as what we'll expect in return."

"And security is only the tip of the iceberg," Kurt smoothly interrupted. "Our demands are nonnegotiable, Mr. Dumbledore." His eyes narrowed. "I would strongly suggest that you never again try to invade my mind, or I can promise you that you will not enjoy the consequences."

Quinn and Santana immediately stood, their gazes fierce.

Kurt smirked. "Just so you know, my security team has already been informed of your attempt. Should I ask, you will not be permitted to leave the premises. Instead, you will be remanded into custody to stand trial by the end of the day. Charges will include attempted psychological rape, intentional infliction of severe emotional distress, child endangerment and abuse, espionage, torture, and treason. Other charges will be added to suit the circumstances and for my own amusement."

Dumbledore's breaths became very shallow.

"After you're convicted," Kurt blithely continued, "and let me assure you, you will be, my father will hold an international press conference to announce the outcome of your trial and the terms of your imprisonment. Extradition to Britain will be denied. I highly doubt the ICW will interfere, and Minister Fudge will be glad to see the back of you once and for all. Any attempts to interfere will result in an international incident which the United Kingdom can ill afford.

"Esperanza will have you declared _persona non grata_ for the entirety of South America, if she doesn't simply kill you outright, and Uncle Alrik will do the same for wizarding Scandinavia. My extended family in France and Germany will do their parts, as well. Please don't forget that I am also a French citizen, and wizarding France is still monarchical and operates under a vastly different legal system than their non-magical counterpart. They are only barely not at war with your government.

"Finally, I will hold my own conference with a press corps I've hand-selected and have met throughout the course of my ambassadorial duties."

Kurt offered a pleasant smile. "This isn't your country, Mr. Dumbledore, and I will happily crucify you."

He and Dumbledore stared at one another for a very long time.

"I began studying Occlumency when I was four," Kurt said. "I mastered it when I was eight. Quinn and Santana are at my level. It was necessary, given the classified information we possess for any number of governments. We were taught by Esperanza herself, and if we can keep her out without difficulty, I am confident we can do the same with you and anyone else with very little strain."

"I am so sorry," Dumbledore said, closing his eyes and sighing.

"I don't care," Kurt said. "I won't pretend to understand your motivations, but whatever accord we may have reached has been severed. Laying aside criminal charges, I want you to give me one solid, concrete reason we should now agree to attend Hogwarts."

Dumbledore suppressed a groan. He had been hasty, had overstepped, and was now completely out of his league. He had sat here only moments before, marveling at the accomplishments of these children, vowing not to underestimate them, and then had done exactly that. He wasn't surprised they had been taught Occlumency; as Kurt indicated, it only made sense given the political power of their families.

He wasn't even terribly surprised at their skill. Esperanza's ability was renowned. No one had ever managed to breach her barriers, and if she had managed to impart that training to these children, and it was obvious she had, their minds were well-guarded.

The truth of the matter was that, though Occlumency was a demanding art, the sooner one was instructed, the easier it was to learn. If a child showed an ability, it was foolish to put off the training.

The minds of children were elastic and their memories not as complex. The earlier those memories were examined, catalogued, and filed, the easier it was to master the discipline. Dumbledore himself had accomplished this before he was sixteen, and Tom Riddle even earlier.

"I say we cut our losses here and now," Santana spat as she paced. "He's offered us nothing that we can't get anywhere else, and we can get a lot more. I never wanted to go to a school to begin with. Our tutoring has been more than sufficient."

Quinn shrugged. "Beauxbatons' offer was much more appealing."

Kurt continued to hold Dumbledore's gaze, temporarily ignoring his friends.

Or so it appeared to Albus.

"I'll tell you what I think," Kurt said slowly. "I think you _did _know my birth parents, Mr. Dumbledore; I think you knew them well. There is no logical reason you should have known I was adopted. Those records weren't sealed; they were obliterated." He raised a brow. "I think you were the one to do that."

Albus said nothing.

"I think you promised my birth parents that, should anything to them, you would do everything in your power to ensure that I would end up with a loving family. And you did that, so I must thank you. I love my family. I wouldn't trade these years with them for anything in the world."

Albus set his jaw to keep it from quivering as a tear forced an escape from his left eye.

Kurt suddenly realized that whatever he had previously thought of this man, he had failed to take one thing into account: at the end of the day, Albus Dumbledore was just a man and nothing more. Powerful, yes. Deceitful and secretive? Certainly. But a man nonetheless. Probably lonely. Absolutely monolithic. A man who had been shouldering a great burden from a grateful but overbearing people since his defeat of Grindelwald all those years before.

"I can only surmise that you regret your decision to send me away," Kurt continued, his voice more sedate, "wondering if it was, in fact, the right decision. I believe you probably thought of me over the years, hoping that I was well, but hesitant to interfere and terrified you might have made a mistake."

Kurt's eyes softened. "How am I doing so far?"

"A little too well," admitted a sorrowful Albus.

"Kurt!" Santana growled.

The boy raised a hand and she was instantly quieted. He cocked his head and continued to study the man before him. "By now, I'm sure you've guessed that you were expected here." He wasn't going to admit that they had expected him that _day_, for he still wanted to see whether his true identity would be revealed by Dumbledore. "I suspected that I would hear from Hogwarts just prior to my birthday."

"Why the subterfuge?" Albus quietly asked.

Kurt gave an unapologetic shrug. "I wanted to see how truthful you would be without being prompted or coerced. Admittedly, I'm disappointed."

"My dear boy, you must understand..."

"Nothing," Kurt interrupted. "I must understand nothing, because it's obvious that my adoption was illegal and engineered by you." He shook his head. "That is, however, ultimately irrelevant." He drew himself up. "I am Kurt Hummel, and that is the only name to which I will answer. Further, I am not, have never been, and will never be _your boy_."

He nodded to himself. "I won't allow my family to be torn apart. I won't allow my father to face possible kidnapping charges. I won't have my mother's memory dragged through the mud. I won't be responsible for tension in the marriage of my father and stepmother, nor will I allow Finn to be subjected to the spectacle this could become. Those things would happen were I to press the matter, so I won't."

"Kurt," Quinn softly said, "are you sure?"

The boy nodded. "Very. There is absolutely nothing this man can do to me or my family, Quinn, without exposing his own misdeeds, and I think we all know he has no intention of doing that. He has no leverage." He arched a brow. "I, on the other hand, have quite a bit."

Albus sighed. "What are your demands?"

Kurt shook his head. "It's no longer that simple. I will admit that I am curious about Britain because I was born there, but as I've already stated, I have no real affiliation with that country. I'm a dual citizen of the United States and France. Your faculty is adequate, but not overly impressive, not compared with the tutors I've had and those I could procure. The idea of being separated from my father, stepmother, and stepbrother for the majority of the year does not appeal to me.

"So what do you have to offer me, Albus Dumbledore?" he asked.

"What is that you want, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt clucked his tongue. "Everything to which we've already agreed, for a start, and that will be finalized in a magically binding contract which you will happily sign."

Albus nodded. He no qualms with this.

"The security measures you outlined are completely unacceptable," Kurt continued. "However, I am willing to negotiate on certain points. I will agree with you that General Sylvester's presence at Hogwarts could be disturbing and prohibitive to the other students, so I will not insist on her presence."

He said nothing about her presence in the environs of Hogwarts, however.

"That said, I _must_ insist that she be allowed to inspect your school from top to bottom before the fifth of August. You will give her unfettered access. She will draft an exhaustive report which will detail all of the shortcomings, and we both know she will find them. Copies of that report will be given to both you and myself. You will have two weeks to implement her suggestions. If you do not, we will know and we will not attend. The cost of such improvements will, of course, be met by me."

It was actually an intriguing demand, Albus ruminated. He would be very interested to see how an outsider judged the wards of Hogwarts. If there were weaknesses, and there probably were, he should be made aware of them. He _wanted_ to be made aware of them. Despite how poorly he had comported himself in this meeting, the safety of his students was paramount. Even if Kurt and the girls declined to attend, such a report was nonetheless a good idea.

It would also go over well with the Board of Governors, who would never turn down a free upgrade.

He cautiously nodded his head.

"Excellent," Kurt nodded. "Next, in lieu of General Sylvester, I still require a small staff." He held up a hand in a bid of silence. "Nonnegotiable. You must understand, Mr. Dumbledore, that being a student does nothing to mitigate my other obligations, which are many. The structured environment of a formal education will impair my duties as Ambassador, especially in a temporal matter.

"I am willing to keep my speaking engagements to a minimum and hold them in Western Europe, but I will have to attend said duties. I fully expect to be excused from classes when the need arises without any protestations or reprisals. Transportation expenses will be met by me."

"Whom would you bring?" Albus asked.

"William Schuester, my personal assistant whom you earlier met," Kurt said. "He knows my schedule, my commitments, and my duties almost as well as I do. He will be given a suite at Hogwarts. Since you are currently operating at approximately one-fourth of your capacity, I presume this will not be a problem."

Albus nodded absently. "He has your complete trust?"

"He does. William Schuester is also my uncle, my mother's half-brother."

Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"Additionally, Nadia Goodacre, my cultural and press attachée, will be in attendance," Kurt continued. "Nadia is an elf, whom British citizens would refer to as a House Elf, though she is no such thing. She is bonded to me in friendship, not slavery. She is well-educated and well-paid for her services. She will also be afforded a suite, not a broom cupboard in the kitchens. I will, of course, be providing the school with stipends for room and board for my staff. I do not expect you to bear the costs of their care."

Albus knew there was no way around this and agreed.

"Should anyone, either student or faculty member, inquire," Kurt said flatly, "they are to be advised that Will and Nadia are in my employ. They are not there to serve anyone else and answer only to me. They will not take orders. They will not be treated as lesser. Should Nadia experience any of the prejudices associated with her species in Britain, I _will_ take steps, and I guarantee you will not enjoy them.

"I am well aware of the history of Hogwarts, Mr. Dumbledore, and I know that when the aristocracy was at its height, it was not unusual for the scions of Ancient and Most Noble Houses to bring a retinue when they matriculated. This is no different. There is precedent. I am an international ambassador and the only son of the second most powerful man in the free magical world. I am not asking for special treatment or to bend rules which already exist. However, if you cannot assure me that my staff will not be harassed, then this discussion is over."

Albus exhaled. "Mr. Hummel, you have my promise that your staff will be welcomed at Hogwarts and treated accordingly with their positions."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Bit of wordplay, there. I've heard of your penchant for such games. Know that all of this is going into the contract in _very_ plain language."

Albus flinched but couldn't deny the boy had cause to distrust him.

"Other security measures will be negotiated between our governments and yours," Kurt continued. "Rest assured that both Quinn and especially Santana, given who their families are, will require their own security. In case it was unclear, their presence is absolutely mandatory to assure my own. As we are not citizens of the United Kingdom, but nevertheless hold international political power, we will be considered foreign diplomats. We will not be subject to the laws of your nation, but our respective ones. In essence, we will have diplomatic immunity.

"There is absolutely no way in hell I will attend your school under the yolk of your laws," he said, "and neither will Quinn nor Santana. We've studied the decisions of the Wizengamot; we know how it operates and how corrupt it is. We are no one's scapegoats."

Albus cleared his throat, not wanting to signal how badly that stung, but nodded. "And internal school matters?"

Kurt nodded. "A fair question. Should a situation arise in school which requires discipline, we will submit to your authority, but _only _when punishments are upheld by the school charter, copies of which are in our possession. We will have memorized the charter before the start of term. If the letter _or_ spirit of the charter is violated, we will ignore the reprimand. Should matters escalate, we will withdraw from Hogwarts immediately and file any charges necessary or applicable."

Kurt stared at Dumbledore. "Is anything I've just said in any way unclear?"

"No," Albus said, "and, frankly, your demands are far from unreasonable."

"This is bullshit," Santana snapped. "I'm not going to be sequestered in some ancient pile of rocks where the head dipshit in charge, who obviously has no compunction about illegal Legilimancy attacks on minors, has unrestricted access to my person." She shook her head furiously. "No way."

Albus suppressed a groan. He could not believe how horribly he had allowed negotiations to deteriorate, simply because he had been impatient and petulant.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Quinn said, "but I have to agree with Santana." She shook her head. "You have to know how ridiculous all of this is. We shouldn't have to do this. We shouldn't have to draft contracts and use intimidation to secure ourselves a proper education and ensure that our rights won't be ignored."

She sat back down in her chair. "I am very uncomfortable with this, and I am most definitely not satisfied. This man obviously wants something from you, and it's far more than whatever he feels he owes your biological parents. We still don't know what it is he wants, and he hasn't offered to explain it. Neither Santana nor I were born in Britain, so we have no reason to go, other than you. I know you will protect us, but that's not your job or responsibility."

Santana nodded. "There's also our parents to consider. When we present them with this contract, they're going to want to know why it was necessary. As it is, none of them wants us to go to boarding school, if simply because of the security issues at play. I've yet to be convinced why formal schooling is necessary or even important."

Kurt wanted to smirk. His girls were certainly selling this! They would push and push until Dumbledore would offer them whatever they wanted, but they all now knew the man would never admit as to _why _he wanted Kurt's presence at the school. He wasn't even worried about pushing Dumbledore too far, because there was no such in thing in this circumstance.

He turned to Dumbledore and raised a brow. "If you have something to sway them, I would suggest it now. We long ago agreed to make majority decisions, and they're two thirds of this triad. I turn the floor over to you."

Albus opened his mouth to offer plaintive promises, but was summarily interrupted.

"Unbreakable Vows, I think," said a lofty Kurt, "in addition to the contract." He smiled. "Better safe than sorry."


	9. Loose Threads

**Author's Note**: One thing I'd like to state clearly here and now is that those readers who insist I have to write my story in a certain way are destined to be disappointed. I have a plan for this story - shocking, as it's _my_ story - and events will unfold in a specific manner determined by me and me alone. If you don't like my story choices, stop reading.

Another thing: some readers are putting the cart before the horse in their reviews. They're so certain they know what I'm going to write that they're already chastising my decisions. Trust me, you have no idea where this is going, so please don't condescend to me about my own story. Not everything is going to be revealed all at once, so if you can't enjoy the story for what it is, bye.

Finally, with regard to Kurt and his portion of the magical world, I can make up anything I choose. If you're looking for logic or real-world parallels, look someplace else. This story is based on a canon in which magic is real. Further, JKR made few forays into matters of law, international relations, and magic itself. I can make up anything I want and it's no more or less relevant than anyone else's fanfiction. If you don't like that, it was nice having you as a reader and thanks for the hits to my story.

There is going to be a surprise crossover somewhere down the line. It won't feature heavily in the story, so those unfamiliar with the fandom will not be lost. It mainly concerns some interesting things about Kurt. For those interested, I will state definitively that Harry is the Boy Who Lived. The prophecy applies to him. Is Kurt more powerful than Harry? No, but he is more knowledgeable and skilled. Is Kurt as _equally_ powerful as Harry? Well, no answer on that one. Just how powerful is Harry? JKR gave us glimpses and then sadly retconned a lot of it. Harry has his special gifts, and Kurt will have his own (as will Quinn and Santana).

Want to know more? This short (sorry/not sorry) chapter offers a hint, so pay careful attention.

* * *

In the end, the children agreed to attend Hogwarts, much to the delight of Albus. Most of that delight, however, resulted from the relatively few small demands they made. He had been prepared to offer much more, sensed they knew as much, and was stunned and humbled when they had asked for so little.

He was sure it was a maneuver on their part, of course, but couldn't prove it. He certainly wasn't going to resort to another Legilimency attempt. Being caught had been embarrassing, but making the attempt at all, especially on children, mortified him. He knew he was powerful, perhaps one of the most powerful wizards on the planet, but he rarely used his power in such a way. He didn't routinely scan his students and faculty, as much as Severus thought otherwise. He respected their privacy.

Indeed, if your own mind couldn't be your sanctuary, what would be?

Oh, he had thought about it, naturally, and more than once. He had thought about using it with Tom Riddle, but had convinced himself that he was misjudging the boy, being too hard on him. When he had finally reached the realization that it was absolutely necessary, Tom had already become one of the most skilled Occlumens he had ever encountered.

Albus was still of the opinion that Tom had used some obscure ritual to achieve this. His shields -were too uniform and refined to be organic. They were also too readily called upon. No matter the level of skill, Occlumency was an unnatural state of mind. Yes, the practice became easier over time and the more you exercised the skill, almost becoming second-nature, but it wasn't _constant_.

His own shields were exceedingly good, but those of Severus were admittedly better, perhaps owing to the fact that the man was so paranoid, even if rightly so.

Albus made a mental note to look through some of his older texts. He fervently wished he had access to the many ancient tomes to which Lily Potter had been privy, ones outside the Potter Library. He had always wondered where those books had come from, how she had obtained access to them, and what had become of the them, but despite subtle inquiries, he had never gleaned the answers.

The truth of the matter was that there was much about Lily Potter that remained shrouded in mystery. She had begun working on her Charms Mastery when James and Sirius had joined the Hit Wizard Squad and finished in a remarkably short period of time, but had never been enrolled in any post-graduate institution, nor had she an apprenticeship on record. He had always found this particularly odd, especially given her close relationship with Filius. Albus well knew Flitwick would have moved heaven and earth to mentor Lily.

He would never ask Filius, of course. He knew that Lily had been his favorite student, his _only_ favorite student, and the man became extremely disgruntled when questioned about their relationship. Still, if anyone would know, it would be Filius.

Personally, Albus had always suspected Lily Potter had been an Unspeakable. That she had been one, in fact, prior to her graduation from Hogwarts.

He knew there was absolutely no way to validate his supposition. Even Albus Dumbledore, with his great network of spies, allies, and informants, had never been able to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries.

He frowned.

James had been pants at Occlumency; the talent simply hadn't run in the family, though Dorea Black, his grandmother, had been extremely skilled. Lily, however, had been a natural, and Albus had never determined just how she had learned the discipline. Now he wondered if she had mastered that ability even prior to matriculating at Hogwarts; if she had shared that ability with anyone else.

Such as Severus, who had never revealed who had instructed him in the art.

Curious.

Perhaps Lily's gift had been inherited by Kurt, who was far more like his birth mother than father. Albus wondered what that meant for Harry.

Lily, for all her temper and bluster, had always been pragmatic and reserved. She had never given away anything about herself that couldn't have been gleaned from other, less personal, sources. Why she had been this way would never be known. Was it in her upbringing? Had it been caused by Petunia's rejection? Her parents' deaths had occurred after her graduation from Hogwarts, so Albus doubted that was the cause.

Kurt reminded him so much of Lily. The boy was polite, circumspect, shrewd, argued to win, and never gave up anything of import without getting something far greater in return. He also realized it was quite possible that he had inherited his mother's legendary temper.

Albus sighed. Lily Evans all over again? Merlin, he was getting too old to play these games. He suspected that Kurt Hummel was going to be a large problem, but the benefits outweighed the headaches, surely. Of course, Lily had never had a Quinn Fabray or Santana Lopez at her side. Kurt alone was formidable, but coupled with the other two, the potential of a ridiculously overpowered triad seemed certain.

The power he knew not?

Albus wasn't sure, but he wasn't taking any chances. If this meeting had taught him anything, it was that it was far better to have Kurt Hummel under his eye than not. The boy would never be under his heel, but Albus could live with that. He knew Kurt wouldn't be able to be bullied or swayed or easily led, and that was fine. Perhaps it was time he relaxed the reins and allowed other people to help him help Harry. And, really, who better than Harry's twin?

Still...

As he crossed toward the Apparition point, he glanced back over his shoulder at the Vice Presidential mansion, now hidden behind that enormous copse of trees.

He had signed the makeshift contract, which would then have to be approved by their parents and ratified by the children's coteries of solicitors, before passing muster with the appropriate governments. Once everything was agreed upon, they would take Vows. There would be an exceedingly large amount of red tape, but he didn't foresee any insurmountable problems.

Indeed, he believed the children, for whatever reason, wanted to attend Hogwarts just as much as he desired them to come. Quinn had suggested, rather obliquely, that their parents would abide their decision. He sincerely doubted that any parent worth their salt would allow their children to navigate their own educations in such an unsupervised manner. This, of course, indicated that the parents must have already agreed to allow the children to attend Hogwarts, should said children truly wish to go.

That meant that he, the school, and its staff had been thoroughly investigated, at least on paper, by some of the most powerful people and government agencies in the world.

While he and Hogwarts had not been found entirely lacking, the children's dissection of the flaws of both the school and the British magical education system had hit close to home. They also could not easily be dismissed.

A most intriguing meeting. Fascinating children. He was looking forward to their arrival.

First, however, he had to return to Hogwarts and brief his staff. Second, he needed to prepare himself and the school for General Sylvester's arrival. He doubted the security precautions offered by the wards would be suitable, and he was curious as to what recommendations the woman would make. Third, he had to clear the way with Minister Fudge and Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

It wouldn't be easy, especially given Amelia's innate distrust of him, but it would be worth it.

To vanquish Voldemort once and for all was worth any cost.

He frowned in thought, quickly waved his wand in an intricate pattern, and activated his portkey.

* * *

"What do you think?" Quinn asked.

"It's a start," Kurt said after a long pause, "but there's much more we need to do."

"Where do we begin?" Santana asked.

Kurt frowned and nodded. "That's the problem. There's so much we need to do if we're going to stay ahead of him." He bit his lip. "Harry will have received his letter by now," he said softly.

Santana laid a hand on his arm. "Can you feel him?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "There's nothing. Just the sense of something missing."

Quinn sat down and sighed. "I think I hate Dumbledore more for that than anything else. For him to sever your bond like that, without any consideration as to what it would do to you..."

"He might not have anticipated it," Kurt quietly interrupted, voice dull and toneless. "Harry and I aren't identical."

"It doesn't matter," Santana said sharply. "You're twins. Twins _always_ have a bond, whether they're identical or fraternal, and magical twins even more so. Dumbledore should have known."

Kurt wrapped his arms around himself. "I miss him so much," he whispered. "I barely remember him, but I miss him more than I ever thought possible." He closed his eyes once more, tears gathering at his lashes. "It hurts."

Quinn gave an exaggerated blink. "Kurt," she said gently so as not to spook him, "what do you mean when you say you barely remember Harry?" She cocked her head. "You were separated when the two of you were only fifteen months old." Her mouth fell open. "You _remember_ him?"

Santana's eyes widened. "You never told us."

"I've never told anyone," he admitted, eyes still shut tightly, "but, yes, I remember Harry. I remember Lily." He set his jaw as his eyes flew open. "And I remember that night."

The girls, plainly horrified, were helpless but to stare at him.

"Voldemort will pay for that," Kurt said. "Harry or not, Dumbledore or not, prophecy or not, Voldemort will pay for what he has done to me and my family." His eyes began glowing as a wind stirred and whipped about his hair. "On my magic, I so swear. I will spill his blood and see him dead once and for all, and woe betide anyone who interferes."

* * *

**End Notes**: This ends the first major part of the story. Subsequent chapters will pick up a week or so before the first term.

So, what do we know so far?

Kurt Hummel is the biological fraternal twin of Harry Potter and is the adopted son of the Vice President of the Magical United States. He is also a youth ambassador for his country. He holds a lot of political power and isn't afraid to use it. He is significantly advanced in his studies and plans to become a Healer.

Quinn Fabray is the daughter of a United States Senator and, through her mother, the niece of the Swedish Minister for Magic. She thus also holds some political sway, but not nearly as much as Kurt. She is highly intelligent and compassionate, but only as it relates to people about whom she cares.

Santana Lopez is the granddaughter and Heir Apparent of Esperanza Ramirez, queen of wizarding South America. Her family is regarded as users of so-called Dark Magic. The only people for whom she holds any loyalty is her family, Quinn, and most especially Kurt.

FYI, per canon, not everyone is capable of producing a Patronus or being an Animagus. Just throwing that out there. Kurt and the girls will all be in the same House at Hogwarts. Harry will not be a Gryffindor. How much Hermione and Ron will be involved is yet to be determined. As for Kurt's circle of friends, he and the girls will technically be Third Years, so think about who will be in their orbit. Those who are looking for a quick family reunion will be disappointed. As it currently stands, I have it so that Kurt and Harry will not know each other as brothers for quite some time.


	10. Not at Rest

**Author's Note**: Remember to keep in mind that this is not canon. I will abuse canon because it deserves to be abused and I will have my whims satisfied. Don't like? Girl (Boy), bye!

* * *

"We don't have to do this now," Kurt said, sighing, "nor do you have to help me."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Of course we do." She gave him a frustrated glare. "Kurt, I appreciate the number of times you have attempted to warn us away from this, but the bottom line is that we're not going anywhere. Did you somehow forget that we just agreed to attend Hogwarts with you? Stop being a martyr and help us!"

He gaped at her and then turned to Santana, who merely raised a brow. She was content to let Quinn handle this. When Kurt would eventually become even more unreasonable, and she knew that he would, then she would step in.

"Only because of the bond," Kurt whispered, turning his eyes downcast.

"Bullshit," Santana spat. "That's not true and you know it, Tink, and I fucking resent the implication. We were close before the bond. The bond wouldn't have been given to us and then solidified were that not the case." She put her hands on her hips. "Do I need to drop my shields so you can read how much I love you and how much you are _pissing me off?_"

Quinn smirked with satisfaction as Kurt shuddered.

Santana basked in her triumph. "We'll lay aside - _temporarily_ - that you never told us you remembered that night. It's your business and we won't pry."

Quinn hesitated, but at last nodded. "For now," she qualified. "Sooner or later, you will have to tell us, Kurt, because if you remember that Halloween, it's very possible that Harry does, as well."

Kurt fidgeted. "I don't think he remembers me," he said sadly. "If he did, I would feel it; there would be something to the bond."

"You don't know that," Quinn said, her tone both kind and pragmatic. "The truth of the matter is that twin bonds are not well understood beyond the fact that they exist. Most twins are too private to allow that aspect of themselves to be studied."

Kurt shrugged and turned his head to the side, signaling he was finished with the discussion at hand.

Santana and Quinn exchanged a glance filled with sadness, anger, empathy, and irritation. Kurt was their best friend; in fact, they most likely would have never been friends themselves without Kurt's influence. As it was, they argued frequently. However, at the end of the day, anything that threatened one would die by the other's hand. That was a fact with comforted like none other. And when Kurt was threatened, they would lay waste to the world in their pursuit of his tormenters.

In a world filled with uncertainties, prejudice, evil, sadness, and loneliness, Kurt, Santana, and Quinn would always have each other, whether they liked it or not. Such was the nature of their bond.

They liked their bond.

Quinn frowned. _Do you think we'll also have a bond with Harry?_

Santana blinked and didn't immediately reply. _I'm not sure_, she finally said_. As Kurt said, they're not identical. They're biologically different human beings, not to mention the fact that their magic is unique. Perhaps they'll have magical consonance, but that still doesn't mean our bond would extend to Harry._

Quinn bit her lip. _Do you think Kurt regrets our bond? What if it supersedes his bond with Harry? Because of course they're getting that back._

Santana smirked with approval. _They will, and I don't think he does. Remember that Kurt has always known about Harry and the loss of their bond. He entered our bond willingly and immediately. I don't think he regrets it at all. That said, we're not his twin brother. We could never take Harry's place, and I think Kurt knows we would never try._

Quinn, obviously relieved, nodded and then decided it was best to snap Kurt out of his maudlin funk. "What do you believe Dumbledore suspects about us?" she asked him.

It worked, and Kurt paused to consider her question. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "Although we threw a lot of information at him, we barely scratched the surface." He bit his lip. "I don't believe he knows we're aware that Harry is my brother. If he did, he would have pressed the subject."

The girls nodded.

"Honestly," he continued, shrugging, "I don't think he knows any more than what we told him, but as to what he suspects? I'm sure he found it unusual how in sync we are with one another. We communicated with looks and finished each other's sentences. I wouldn't say that's particularly extraordinary, but it is odd. I think he accepted it because we made it clear that we've been together as a unit for a number of years."

"Do you think he knows about the bond?" asked an uneasy Santana.

Kurt scoffed. "If our parents don't know, I highly doubt Dumbledore is aware. The type of bond we share hasn't been seen in over two thousand years and was never witnessed on British soil. No matter how learned Dumbledore is, I don't believe he's particularly interested in history on a global scale." He shrugged once more. "As it is, our bond would be considered nothing more than a myth or fairy tale."

"All of this presupposes that Dumbledore won't perform his own investigation of us," Quinn warned. "There's a month between now and when the term begins, and he can accomplish a number of things in that time."

Santana nodded. "A legitimate point, but I don't think it's one he'll press too hard. We were nothing but honest with him about our agenda. Sure, we held stuff back, but I think he expected that and he held back just as much, if not more. I don't think he was prepared for how much we knew, specifically about his country, not just Hogwarts, and it was apparent he had no clue about any of us."

"Which bothers me," Kurt said, frowning. "If he didn't check up on me, it stands to reason he never bothered with Harry. In fact, I believe that when he called his phoenix to him, it had something to do with Harry."

Santana stared. "You saw the phoenix. You actually _saw_ the phoenix?"

"I suppose you could say we met each other," he replied. "Fawkes, the name of the phoenix, alighted behind me and proceeded to peck at my head in a playful manner. Dumbledore was amused."

"So the phoenix likes you," Quinn said, contemplating his statement. "That could prove useful, as well as being a great alibi for the future."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm not _evil_; none of us is."

"It's not that simple, Kurt," Santana said, "and you know it. We've used what would, in Britain, be considered dark magic."

"But not for ill intent or personal gain," Quinn interrupted. "Further, what Britain considers dark magic is truly laughable. If they could, they'd outlaw everything, disarm their people, and then kick back and collect taxes."

"There's no such thing as dark magic, Santana," Kurt added, "and you know that."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "That entire country is going to crucify me."

"I really don't believe they will," Quinn said, "at least not on the basis of your family's reputation. Britain respects power and money, San, and you've got that in spades. If anything will get their collective goat, it will be the fact that you, that all of us, are foreigners. British magical society is intensely insular and xenophobic."

Kurt nodded. "However, I believe that will be somewhat ameliorated." He raised a brow. "Do you really think the Fudge administration won't make the most of the fact that an ambassador, a Swedish countess, and a genuine princess chose Hogwarts at which to study?" He shook his head. "They'll be falling all over themselves _and_ us."

Quinn turned toward him. "I noticed you didn't make mention of your titles or mine to Dumbledore."

"Of course not," he replied. "For one thing, our titles are mostly ceremonial; they won't do much except encourage people to consider the fact that we have political allies outside of the United States upon whom we can call if necessary."

She nodded. It was true, of course, and let Dumbledore and Britain be content with thinking just that.

"The other is that there's a distinct difference between nobility and royalty," he added. "Santana is a legitimate princess, not just of a country, but an entire continent. She is absolutely going to become a seated sovereign and is from a family dynasty which has ruled consistently for more than a millennium."

"Do you really think it will even matter?" Santana asked. "Most of wizarding Britain is completely unaware that Queen Elizabeth is their monarch; that she, in fact, holds more power in their world than in the non-magical one?"

Kurt shrugged, unbothered. "That's what happens when you let a ghost teach history to the children of an entire nation for more than two centuries. Look at the damage Snape has inflicted on their number of Healers and Potion Masters, all in the space of a decade."

She conceded the point with a nod.

"Let's not forget the most obvious thing," Quinn interjected. "The moment this begins to go south and we're faced with no real options, we withdraw from the school and simply take Harry with us in whatever manner the situation requires."

Kurt nodded as Santana's eyes gleamed with malevolence.

"That presupposes he'll want to be with me," Kurt said softly. "He might not. He'll want to know why it took me this long to come to him."

Quinn frowned. "Kurt, you're a _child!_ You've spent _years_ searching for him. We can prove that. Why wouldn't he accept you?"

"There's a difference between understanding and feeling," Kurt said. "I have no idea what's happened to him in the past ten years, but if he was, as I suspect, left with the Dursleys, then it won't be anything good."

"Are you sure he's with them?" Santana demanded. "For that matter, what on earth could block you and an entire government from finding one non-magical family?"

He turned to face her. "A blood ward."

Her eyes widened as Quinn gasped.

Santana's face shut down. "The kind of ward of which you're speaking is an affront to magic itself. There is nothing in Dumbledore's profile that would suggest he has any authority or practical experience in creating such a ward." Her gaze was searing. "Do you truly think him that stupid?"

"Not at all," Kurt said, "but I do think him terminally naive, particularly where Voldemort is concerned, which is far more dangerous."

She exhaled slowly. "Then that explains a number of things."

Quinn threw up her hands. "I have no idea what either one of you are talking about." Before they could utilize the bond, she held up a hand. "Verbally, please. There's a lot I'm trying to assimilate at the moment."

Kurt nodded. "You wouldn't necessarily know this Quinn, and it's something neither Santana nor I have ever tacitly discussed. I'm aware of this particular ward because warding is Dad's specialty, and Santana because blood magic is an integral part of her culture. We haven't left you out of anything, not intentionally."

Santana nodded.

Quinn blushed lightly. She hadn't mentioned it, but she had been slightly bothered that they were privy to knowledge she was not. That wasn't how their bond worked. Although each of them could dampen the bond so that their thoughts could remain private if they should so choose, knowledge was something they never kept to themselves. When one learned something, the other two automatically assimilated the information.

"What we believe has happened is that Dumbledore enacted a blood ward of protection around Harry," Kurt explained, "ostensibly to keep him safe from any Death Eaters who skirted punishment after the fall of Voldemort. It means that Harry has been essentially removed from magical observation; that is, no one outside of Dumbledore and perhaps a few key Ministry personnel knows where to find him."

Quinn shook her head in confusion. "That doesn't explain why you haven't been able to find him using non-magical means."

He nodded. "Which Santana will do now."

"In order for this ward to function properly," Santana continued, "it must be generated by a willing sacrifice."

Quinn's thoughts raced until she arrived at the only answer she believed could make sense. "Lily."

"Most likely," Kurt said. "From the little intelligence Dad has been able to gather, which is almost none, considering the events at Godric's Hollow were placed under the Official Secrets Act, Lily's body was found at the foot of Harry's crib, suggesting she was the final barrier Voldemort had to cross to get to us."

"You and Harry didn't share a crib," Quinn surmised. At the shake of his head, she continued to extrapolate. "Then Voldemort _did_ attack Harry first."

Kurt nodded.

"So Harry really is the Boy Who Lived," she said. "Dumbledore didn't make a mistake about that."

"No," Kurt said, smirking, "but I imagine he's reconsidering it now."

Quinn smirked in kind. "Well, that should keep him occupied for quite a while." Her face cleared. "And the ward?"

"Here's where it gets tricky, and truly disgusting," Santana said, pulling a face. "The ward can only be maintained by continual sacrifice."

Quinn blinked. "But Lily's dead."

"Exactly," Kurt whispered.

Quinn's face twisted in horror. "You mean it's _Harry_? He has to be sacrificed?"

"Not quite," Santana said gently, throwing a cautious glance at Kurt. "It's that Harry has to make constant unwilling sacrifices."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Quinn demanded.

"The initial sacrifice was based on Lily's love for her children," said a sedate Santana. "In order for the ward to be set, Harry would have to be placed with someone of Lily's blood."

"Petunia," Quinn guessed.

Santana nodded. "Had James cast the spell, Harry could have gone to a paternal relative."

Now Quinn was hopelessly lost. "Wait a minute, before we go any further, where does Kurt fit in with all of this? Why did Dumbledore separate him from Harry?"

"He most likely believed, and perhaps not incorrectly, that I could be used against Harry," Kurt said.

Quinn disagreed. "I could see that if you and Harry were adults, but how would one toddler be used against another? Further, as you're the elder, you're heir to the House of Potter, not Harry."

"That makes the point for me," Kurt said. "If I had fallen into the hands of Voldemort's minions, they would have killed me so that Harry would have inherited. Then, they would have used the Ministry's own laws to have Harry placed with one of them. He would have been under their control, as would the House of Potter and its fortune."

Quinn swallowed heavily and nodded. That made sense. Horrible, sick sense. Then another thought occurred to her. "You're not actually arguing that Dumbledore made the right decision, are you?"

"No," Kurt said, rather heatedly, "only that I can understand his reasoning. Dumbledore cares about me in the abstract, as he does everyone, but not as a person. I am a tool to him, as is Harry, and that's the main reason for the separation. It's obvious from his actions he believes Voldemort will return. When that happens, the most logical person to oppose him would be the one who defeated him."

"Although," Santana interjected, "critical thinking would suggest that it was Lily who ultimately defeated Voldemort, not Harry. He was the instrument."

"Possible," Kurt replied, "but not definite. Harry could just be that powerful."

Quinn and Santana doubted that, but neither could they dismiss it. Accidental and wish magic, particularly in highly charged emotional situations, could be inordinately powerful and notoriously difficult to control or counter. Not to mention that Kurt was more magically powerful than either one of them, though they themselves were incredibly strong. If Harry's power was equal to or greater than Kurt's own, who was to say what happened that night?

"We have to assume that whatever Lily's protection entails, it also extends to Kurt," Quinn said.

"But Voldemort chose Harry," he said, "not me."

Santana blanched. "You really do remember."

He gave a tired nod.

Quinn felt it best to get the discussion back on track. "So what are you saying? That the severing of your twin bond is a result of the blood ward? That their relationship was a sacrifice?"

Santana met her stare with grave eyes. "Yes."

Quinn shook her head in incredulity. "That's...perverse. It's absolutely reprehensible."

"And it gets worse," Santana added. "The ward would compel Petunia to admit Harry into her home, but not to love or even care for him. If anything, the ward would have turned her against him completely. Yes, her blood, as one of the last members of Lily's family, would help to anchor the ward, thus giving Harry sanctuary, but she would come to resent his presence thoroughly."

"Are you saying Harry has been abused?" Quinn roughly demanded.

"At the very least, he has probably been neglected," Santana admitted, "but given the nature of this ward, of the power necessary to cast it, and the magical strength that flows through Lily's children, yes, I do believe Harry most likely has been abused."

"That doesn't make sense!" Quinn insisted. "Intellectually I can understand Kurt's argument that Dumbledore separated him from Harry in order to protect both of them, but there are too many inconsistencies. First, as suggested earlier, it's only logical to assume that whatever James, Lily, or both of them did to protect Harry also protects Kurt. Kurt says that Voldemort went immediately for Harry, but we don't know if that was planned."

She sent a sorrowful look to her friend. "It could have just as easily been you," she whispered.

He nodded his agreement, which served to spur her further.

"Second, I can understand Dumbledore's impetus for the ward and, as long as we're excusing his ignorance, that he wouldn't necessarily know that he had cast it improperly or the ramifications of the casting." She paused for a breath. "That doesn't explain, however, why he would separate them. If anything, Kurt's blood would also power the ward, thus doubling their protection."

Santana blinked, narrowed her eyes in thought, and turned to Kurt. "It's a valid point."

He swallowed heavily. "There's a prophecy."

Quinn sighed.

"Aw, shit," was Santana's summation.

* * *

"So you don't know what the prophecy is, only that there is one?" Quinn asked.

Kurt nodded.

"Well, that's unhelpful, " Quinn said.

"Who told you this?" Santana demanded.

He regarded her carefully.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Brittany."

He nodded and, though she couldn't see it, she felt it. Her rage and regret began stewing to a boil.

"It's not our fault," Kurt said. "We still don't know what happened."

"She shouldn't have been there," Santana hissed. "We shouldn't have taken her."

"We didn't," Quinn gently remonstrated. "She followed us. We couldn't have known, Santana."

Santana knew her friend was right, but that did little to quell her fear. She sighed. "I don't know why I didn't..."

She had some minor seeing talent, but nothing in the way of what Brittany was and would later become. She was still devastated that Brittany wouldn't be accompanying them to Hogwarts, but understood she required more specialized training than Hogwarts, or any other magical institution, could provide.

Kurt offered a diffident shrug. "She's Brittany. She defies all logic and explanation."

Santana smiled. It was filled with sadness, but also agreement.

"So you believe this prophecy is what encouraged Dumbledore to action," Quinn said to Kurt, who nodded.

"It makes the most sense. The Potters were targets long before Harry and I were born, but never had Voldemort been so overt in his quest to bring them to heel. Disposing of minor annoyances - and, let's face it, compared to his abilities, James and Lily could be considered nothing less - was left to his lieutenants, yet he showed up to Godric's Hollow himself. He personally killed James and Lily before training his wand on Harry. Yes, as you pointed out, it could have just as easily been me, but he obviously viewed us as a threat which required elimination."

"Then Voldemort knows the prophecy," Santana said.

"I assume so," Kurt replied, "or at least part of it." He tilted his head. "Enough to take drastic measures and expose himself."

"And you think Dumbledore knows the prophecy, as well," Quinn said.

"Definitely. We all know that prophecies, while inexact and usually worthless, have certain parameters."

Santana stiffened. "You believe Dumbledore was there when the prophecy was uttered."

"Absolutely," Kurt said. "He had to have been, else why was he the one who engineered all of this? He was the one who separated me from Harry. He was the one who put me with my parents and Harry with the Dursleys. He obviously has some scheme in mind, probably a convoluted and ultimately idiotic one, and has spent the past decade twiddling his thumbs and waiting for the Potter twins to come to Hogwarts."

Quinn pulled a face but nodded. Kurt's explanation made the most sense, but something else was troubling her. "What about the Dursleys?" she asked. "Why haven't you or Uncle Burt been able to find them?"

Kurt nodded. "I believe that has to do with the ward. From what Dad's taught me, a blood ward of this kind, based on sacrifice, is designed to protect the warded from their most dangerous enemy, which, in this case, would be Voldemort. That means that Dumbledore has known for quite some time that Voldemort still exists in some form.

Santana scowled.

"The next part," Kurt continued, "ties in with the nature of sacrifice. Lily gave up her life, her blood, to protect Harry and me, but since Dumbledore, in his misguided wisdom, separated us, the ward itself applies only to Harry, as it was built around him."

"The ward itself," Santana interrupted, slowly repeating his words. "You think there's a protection in place separate from the ward?"

"I do," Kurt said, "but without access to the spell she used, I can only posit what that might be, and it won't necessarily extend to me. I believe that it would, that Lily would have attempted to protect both of us, but it's all supposition at this point."

"You're sure it was Lily?"

Kurt looked away. "James was found on the first floor. Lily was found on the second, in the nursery." He paused. "This is just my own extrapolation, but I believe he was buying her time."

"And the Dursleys?" Quinn repeated.

He sighed. "My bond with Harry was severed; that was a sacrifice. It can be argued that it was a sacrifice demanded of both of us, but that's debatable, because I never agreed to any such thing. Harry, however, is under the power of the ward, and his permission isn't required for sacrifices to be made on his behalf. I have memories of Harry, while Harry most likely none of me. Who knows which of us is worse off for that."

Quinn shook her head, furious at Dumbledore.

"As for the Dursleys," Kurt said, "I've already explained that it's my belief that Harry has been required to make continual sacrifices to power the ward, and it's possible that any memories he had of me have been suppressed in yet another sacrifice."

"You mean he might remember you, but those memories are hidden from him because of the ward," Quinn said.

Santana nodded. "The ward is powered by continual suffering. Harry's continued separation from Kurt qualifies. Conceivably, anyone of Harry's blood should be protected by the ward, but because Harry doesn't know of Kurt's existence, the ward would not necessarily recognize Kurt as blood."

"But it does Petunia and Dudley," Kurt picked up, "because Harry has been led to believe they're all the remaining family he has. Essentially, he thinks they're his only option. As such, the ward is made stronger by his belief he is alone in the world, save them."

"And you think they've abused him," Quinn said darkly.

"From the pieces Dad has been able to put together," Kurt said, "there was no love lost between Petunia and Lily. Petunia did not attend Lily's wedding, our birth, or the Potters' funeral. I sincerely doubt that taking in her wayward nephew was high on her list of priorities."

"So she, as Santana said, would resent him," Quinn surmised, "and would see him as a burden."

Kurt nodded. "I haven't been allowed to access the Potter estate yet, though I will be able to do so as of today, but I was able to determine that there have been no withdrawals from either it or our trust funds. I doubt that Dumbledore is footing the bill for Harry's upkeep."

Santana gnawed on her lip. "So, if the ward doesn't recognize you as blood, it would keep Harry and the Dursleys from being able to be found by you or anyone acting on your behalf."

Kurt gave a sad nod. "If neither my father nor your grandmother can find one small nonmagical family in an island-bound nation, only the blood ward would possess the magic to hide them." He rolled his shoulders. "Anyone I asked to find them would be considered an agent of mine, and the ward would not reveal Harry's location."

Quinn growled. "Look, I understand how intricate and illogical magic can be, but there's something seriously wrong with this scenario. If what we're thinking is right, and it probably is, that means Harry has been raised as a non-magical. There have to be records of him in that world, some kind of paper trail. Medical records, school records, _something._"

"I'm sure there is," Kurt agreed, "but we can't find them." He offered a diffident shrug. "And enter Dumbledore."

Quinn grew very red, withdrew her wand, cast a silencing spell on herself, and screamed her head off.

"You think Dumbledore knew your family would come looking?" Santana asked him.

"I think he considered the possibility and planned for it," Kurt said. "I'm sure that, after today, after realizing I was blood adopted into the Hummel family, he wonders how much I truly know about my birth family. There are various rituals one can use for a blood adoption, but most of them will reveal the child's biological relatives as a magical safeguard. He might not know that _I_ know I was born a Potter, but I'm sure he suspects my father does."

Quinn released the spell and hissed. "So that will be his excuse. He didn't tell you about Harry because he wasn't sure you knew, and he wouldn't want to interfere in how Uncle Burt was planning on telling you."

Kurt gave her a bland look. "He had no idea of the positions Dad holds in the international community, let alone who he is as a person. If all of this has taught me anything, it's that Dumbledore sees me as a carrot he can use to goad Harry into action. He will reveal nothing until the last possible moment or unless he feels someone else might reveal it first. Then he would rush to tell all and appear as the only honest and trustworthy adult in our lives."

He began pacing. "I don't think Dumbledore is a malicious man; I truly don't." He rolled his neck. "However, I do believe that he is so focused on the big picture that he has made himself offensively myopic."

"He can't see the trees for the forest," Santana said wryly.

Kurt nodded. "Exactly. This is all an elaborate chess game for him, and he fancies himself the chessmaster. Despite his good intentions, the problem is that he doesn't recognize the pieces are actual people, and so while he feels compassion when he deems them necessary sacrifices, he believes the collateral damage to be worth the risk. That's what makes him so dangerous."

Quinn eyed him. "You believe that, as Dumbledore knew of this prophecy, he also knew the Potters would be targets?"

"Everyone knows the Potters were killed in Godric's Hollow, but no one knows exactly _where_. That suggests a Fidelius Charm. That charm isn't in the standard Hogwarts curriculum, not to mention that it requires a tremendous amount of power to cast."

He paused. "By all accounts, Lily was one of the most powerful magical practitioners of her generation, as well as a Charms prodigy. She could have cast the spell, but someone would have had to show her how. Flitwick, perhaps, but I'm betting on Dumbledore."

Quinn blinked. "A Fidelius? Wow." She frowned. "So that would make Black was the Secret Keeper? That's why he's imprisoned and labeled as a betrayer."

Kurt grimaced and nodded

Santana raised a brow. "As in the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black? A member of the Major Arcanum?"

He nodded.

She gave a low whistle. "How did I gloss over that before?"

"It wasn't important," Quinn said. "It still isn't. He betrayed the Potters."

Kurt had some questions about that, but held his silence and hid his doubts from their bond. He would discover everything that happened that night, but now wasn't the time. Regardless, he and Sirius Black were overdue for a chat.

"We need to get that ward down," Santana declared.

"I might be able to help with that," Sue Sylvester barked as she strode into the drawing room.

* * *

Augusta Longbottom was not pleased and let Amelia Bones know it. Unfortunately for her, Madam Bones had zero shits to give.

This had not been a good day.

Fudge was even more bumbling than usual; Dolores Umbridge had dropped by her office in an attempt to be menacing, failed, and left an unwelcome, lingering scent of litter box in her wake; Dumbledore had tried to Floo her first thing that morning, though she hadn't answered; and her niece Susan was Hogwarts-bound and far too excitable.

Now this.

If she hadn't had so much respect for Filius Flitwick, she would have turned him to stone and placed him as part of that ridiculous statue in the Ministry atrium.

Harry Potter, _the _Harry Potter, the Heir to the House of Potter, the Vanquisher of Voldemort, and all-around Boy Who Lived was sequestered in a silenced conference room being guarded by four Aurors and Flitwick as she tried to figure out her next move.

That move would have to be implemented fairly quickly, lest Cornelius or the Frog stumble across the boy and make matters so much worse.

Their legend, their hero, had been abused by Muggles.

This was beyond a clusterfuck. Should knowledge of how the Potter boy was treated be leaked to the public, there would mass revolts and political chaos would ensue.

Amelia Bones wasn't prone to melodrama and she well knew the fiasco this could cause. Dumbledore would be vilified, perhaps rightly, by the press. The former Minister Bagnold was dead and thus beyond the grasp of the public's fury, but their anger would certainly carry over to Fudge, who had known of the boy's placement. Worse, he had approved of it, seeing no reason to rock the boat Dumbledore and Bagnold had set adrift.

This was one of Fudge's greatest inadequacies: he hesitated to action, content to rest on his laurels and allow others to make difficult choices. When those choices resulted in triumph, he reaped all the accolades; but should failure result, he shrugged off any blame, passing the proverbial galleon to the first available patsy.

In this case, that would be her. As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she was nominally in charge of overseeing the Magical Child Welfare Division. The connection was tenuous at best, but because the MCWD sometimes required the assistance of the DMLE, Amelia was tangentially its head.

She knew Cornelius Fudge believed she was his only likely opposition when it came time for reelection, and though she had no intention of running - at least not yet - she also knew Fudge wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice her to protect himself. She wasn't about to throw away almost twenty years of service and a sterling reputation because Fudge couldn't do his job.

She was disgusted by how Harry Potter was treated - outraged, in fact - but she knew she would do him more good by retaining her position and seeing those responsible for his treatment paid for their mistakes.

And they would pay.

She glanced down at the medical report before her, remembering how Flitwick, one of her favorite instructors, had flung it at her, snarling, when she had responded to his summons at St. Mungo's Hospital. She had never before seen the man so infuriatied and intimidating.

She gave a bland look at Augusta Longbottom and causally slid the report across the desk.

Augusta raised a brow and looked down at the offering, underwhelmed.

She had never cared for the Ministry, though she had once recognized its value, remembering the days when it served the public, rather than forcing the public to service it. She remembered Ministers who had been the salt of the earth, proud and dignified witches and wizards who served with honor but also knew when to exit the stage.

In the past half century, however, particularly the past twenty years, she had seen the Ministry for Magic turn away from its mission and devolve into a den of iniquity which granted itself overreaching powers, placing that power in the hands of the morally bankrupt and terminally stupid.

The Ministry had become a collective for those with illusions of adequacy.

She maintained her positions in the Wizengamot and on the Hogwarts Board of Governors primarily to inject a sense of dignity and decorum into their proceedings as she prepared Neville to take over the reins once he was of age. As his Regent, such was her duty to the House of Longbottom. Also, it was a fantastic way of keeping her eye on the undesirables, such as Lucius Malfoy and his ilk. She had a network of spies and informants which easily rivaled those of Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Augusta Longbottom was a proud woman, a busy woman, who had no time for nonsense. She frankly resented the summons which had brought her to the DMLE this day. She had a large respect for Amelia Bones. The woman was competent, magically powerful, and ethical - a rare combination in a Ministry employee.

She thought it rather unseemly that Amelia had placed herself front and center of the political game instead of behind the scenes, where a woman of her character could exercise real power, but she appreciated the gravity and moral center she brought to her position.

That said, she was unhappy to have been ordered to appear like a wayward child.

"What is this?" she demanded, tapping a fingernail on the folder.

"Read it," Amelia said.

Augusta narrowed her eyes. "Summarize its contents."

"I wasn't aware you were a functional illiterate, Augusta."

Augusta hid a smirk of approval, stared at Amelia for a long time, before slowly opening the folder. At the first page, her eyes widened. As she raced through the document, she felt all the blood in her head rush and pool in her feet.

"Is this accurate?" she hissed.

"I wouldn't waste your time or mine if it wasn't," Amelia barked.

Suddenly, Augusta gleaned Amelia's plan.

"Absolutely not!"

Amelia was not about to let this old crone dismiss the situation out of hand. "I don't believe you understand what's happening here."

"I understand more than you could possibly imagine," Augusta said. "There is no way I will have this child remanded in to my custody. He needs serious care, and certainly more than I can provide."

They argued for the next twenty minutes, Augusta being intransigent and Amelia being persistent. Finally, Amelia played her ace.

"Alice is the boy's godmother."

Augusta paled even further, this time with rage, visibly affronted that Amelia had the audacity to question her devotion to family. Yes, her daughter-in-law was indeed Harry Potter's godmother and, yes, Augusta had been negligent in following up on Harry Potter's care, but she was not about to accept responsibility for a physically and emotionally damaged boy. She had enough on her plate dealing with Neville and his wealth of inadequacies. She had no room for more.

"Alice is unable to care for the boy," she growled, "as you well know, Madam Bones, and though she is my son's wife, I will not be held accountable for the responsibilities she is medically unable to exercise."

Amelia leaned back in her chair and regarded Augusta with cool eyes. "You're suggesting that because Potter is not of your blood, you bear no responsibility for his care."

"Correct." Augusta knew she sounded heartless, but she would not be bullied into doing something she knew was ill-advised.

She was not a maternal woman. Frank had been a late-life pregnancy, conceived long after she thought herself barren, and while she was overjoyed at his birth and proud of his many accomplishments, she knew she had not been a very good mother. She had been abrasive and controlling, manipulative and emotionally unavailable. It wasn't that she didn't love her son with every fiber of her being, but that she had been too old and set in her ways when he had been born. Worse, she knew she was repeating her mistakes with Neville and had no idea how to stop herself.

It hadn't surprised her when Frank had married Alice, a woman who was the polar opposite of his mother. She had been taken aback by Alice at first, but had grown to love the woman fiercely, especially when they argued. Alice came across as meek and docile, but she had the heart of a lion, a true Gryffindor, and hadn't let Augusta get away with anything. Alice had been a check and balance Augusta had desperately needed.

She missed the woman as much as she missed her son, and knew both would be appalled by how she had raised Neville, though she had done the best she could. She knew it wasn't good enough, that she had damaged him, perhaps irreparably. She would not be found guilty of doing the same to Harry Potter.

Amelia gave her a measured look. "You might be Augusta, the Lady and Regent of the House of Longbottom, but you were born Callidora Black." She tilted her head. "I was very young when she was transformed into the woman who now sits before me, but I remember her and I've heard tell of how Black children were raised."

Augusta set her jaw.

"_Toujours pur_, _oui?_" Amelia asked. "Forever pure is the family motto, but it never meant what Walburga and her brood allowed it to become. She perverted the motto to suit her Pureblood agenda, but we both know that it references pure of _heart_."

Augusta said nothing.

"Apparently you have no heart," Amelia continued, "so allow me to put this in terms you can understand. First, you may have no legal duty to the Potter boy, but you most definitely have a moral one. Alice wouldn't have hesitated to step in and care for the boy, and you, as her current Head of House, bear the onus of her responsibilities."

She paused. "Don't forget that I knew Frank well. I was his supervisor when he and Alice joined the Corps. He would support me in this, would have supported Alice, and you know it."

Augusta curled a lip.

Amelia shifted. "Let us lay that aside for the moment, however. You bleat about how important family is to you, that you are protecting and ensuring Neville's legacy until he reaches his majority, but do not forget that Harry Potter is of your blood."

Augusta stilled.

"His grandmother was Dorea Black, your cousin." Amelia raised a brow. "You were rather close, as I recall."

"Do not speak of her," Augusta warned.

It was then that Amelia realized Augusta shared her suspicions that Dorea Black Potter had been assassinated.

"But more than that," Amelia quickly added, "Sirius Black, also your kin, was named a Son of the House of Potter by Charlus and Dorea Black. He is also Harry Potter's godfather."

"Irrelevant," Augusta seethed, furious that her connection to that disgrace of a wizard had been spoken of, even in this private conversation.

Amelia hooded her eyes. "I did some discreet checking," she said with utmost nonchalance, "in the Book of Names."

Augusta's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Harry Potter was named by his godfather, Sirius Black, as Presumptive Heir to the House of Black."

"Impossible!" Augusta bellowed, rising to her feet.

Amelia stared up at her. "Oh, it is quite possible and very true. You well know that Sirius was named Heir by Arcturus, and though Sirius has been imprisoned, his status is unchanged. Walburga tried to disown him, but was unable, as she wasn't his Head of House. He cannot fulfill his duties, of course, but that takes nothing away from his title. He will remain in Azkaban for the rest of his natural life, but Harry Potter, on his seventeenth birthday, will become the Head of House Black."

She smiled. "Coincidentally, the day previous, your grandson will become the Head of House Longbottom. On that auspicious occasion, you will revert to being a Black."

"I am a Longbottom!" she screeched. "Now and forever!"

"In thought and feeling, perhaps," Amelia conceded, "but you are not a Longbottom by blood. Harry Potter, once he accepts his title, will become your Head of House."

Augusta promptly sat down. "You are blackmailing me."

"Not at all," Amelia smoothly said. "I'm merely reminding you of a few key facts. What you do with that information is, of course, entirely up to you." She hummed. "I would, however, be very interested to see how young Harry and Neville get along at Hogwarts. Will they, for example, be as close as their fathers? Will they possibly renew the alliance that once existed between their Houses, and, if they do, what would that mean for you when they learn of this moment?"

Augusta's face became a perfect mask. "Well played."

"I'm not trying to play you, Augusta," Amelia said firmly. "I want you to understand the consequences of your decision, of how very important this is. Harry Potter has a biological connection to you and a magical one to your daughter-in-law. Those connections will give the Wizengamot and Ministry very little pause in assigning him to your care."

Her face darkened. "Do not forget that you are not the only Black in existence. Think carefully about who else could make a claim for custody and of the ramifications that would result should one of them gain power over Harry Potter."

Augusta's breathing rapidly increased.

Narcissa.

Narcissa, and thus Lucius Malfoy, could lay claim to the Potter Heir. That would be absolutely disastrous.

"Why not Andromeda?" Augusta demanded. "She is younger and, thanks to her husband, understands Muggle ways."

"A fair, if slightly offensive, question," Amelia said, "and one which as a ready answer. That answer you will repeat to no one under any circumstances." She dropped her chin and gave the woman an arctic glare. "Is that clear?"

Augusta suddenly understood why this woman was so feared. She nodded her acquiescence.

Amelia tented her fingers. "Harry Potter was raised by Muggles, yes, but much was omitted from his knowledge. Until today, he had no idea he was a wizard. He had no idea that magic was real and the magical world into which he was born even existed. He was told his parents were lazy drunkards who died in an automobile accident. He has no knowledge of magic, the wizarding world, his place within it, or the House of Potter."

Augusta leapt to her feet and began pacing.

"Unacceptable!" she furiously whispered over and over.

She then halted and turned on her heel, glaring down at Amelia. "Dumbledore."

"Yes," Amelia said gravely. "Now, tell me, Augusta, what would have happened had the LeStranges incapacitated you as they did Frank and Alice? What would have happened to Neville if his destiny had been placed in the hands of Albus Dumbledore, as that of Harry's was?"

Augusta gnashed her teeth. "I accept."


End file.
